Let’s go on a “date”

Oh dear God, are we that couple?

A new Fairway opened up in our area.  Well, not exactly our area.  We have to drive about 20 minutes to reach it but it’s so worth it. (Notice the bold and italics there?)  Have you ever been to a Fairway?  It’s like Toys R’ Us for the food-obsessed.  Michael asked me last night if I wanted to go there on a date.  Alone time is still alone time, whether it’s at a romantic restaurant where we can drink wine and hold hands across the table or whether we’re pushing a shopping cart in the grocery store as we ogle endless varieties of olive oil and paté.

The first time we went there, we happened to be in the area and I “ran” in to “grab a few things” with my mom and Madeleine, leaving Michael and Luke in the car.  It was Saturday afternoon and quite crowded.  Madeleine suddenly realized that she was ravenous and began whining, crying and throwing her head all around until she was fed.

“Ok, Madeleine…just a minute.  It’s very crowded and I’m trying to get passed all the others people.”

“I’m.  Hungry!!!”  she shouted.

“Let’s get her something,” my mom said.

“No junk!” I snapped at her.  My mother has a habit of giving my kids junk food to shut them up.  There are always bags of cookies in her notoriously oversized handbag.

She rolled her eyes at me.  I began sweating, of course, for a few reasons – my unreasonable child and her constant screaming, the crowd of shoppers and also (in an almost child-like way) I wasn’t getting my way.  I wanted to browse all of the gorgeous specialty food item choices at my leisure.

“How about a yogurt,” my mom suggested.

Spoons for said yogurt were no where in sight.  We had to backtrack through the throng of people waiting on the deli line to get to the buffet area (ick, buffets) to get a spoon.  People were steering their shopping carts as if they were blindfolded.  There were no straight lines, only wackos walking into each other diagonally.

I exploded.   “God damn it!  I never get to just take my time and shop and – God forbid – relax!  I’m always rushing and my kids are always complaining!”

Let’s add the unfamiliarity of the store.

“How the hell do we get out of here?!”  I barked.

My mom had the clarity of mind to ask a Fairway employee to point us toward the cashiers.

When we got back to the car Michael asked if it was a nice store.

“I wouldn’t know.  It was mobbed with idiots and our daughter was screaming the whole time.”

If we lived closer to Fairway, I think he would have opted to walk home.

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This entry was published on September 28, 2012 at 6:35 pm. It’s filed under Food, Kids, relationships and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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