I’ve found this old photo to illustrate today’s post. It’s not a weekly shop but shows a time when Louis and I went to buy the snacks for his junior school disco . Bless him! He was pushing every kid’s dream trolley full of crisps and sweets. Now the kid’s a grown up he’s hardly ever in tow. However if I shopped like this regularly he still might be tempted.
I’ve never understood women who drag their men around the shops. I’ve every sympathy with the poor buggers that you see sitting outside changing rooms, more so when they’re asked to give an opinion on a piece of clothing. They’re onto a loser with that one. Then again perhaps they have only themselves to blame. Assertiveness classes are in order. Aside from strolls around charity shops and arty places with my girlies I prefer to shop alone. This includes the weekly shop.
Hot Stuff however likes to come with me. I try to put him off without looking like a total arse. ‘I thought about going to Lidl early.’ I said the other day whilst we were still in bed having our early cuppa. ‘Do you want to come? I asked. You don’t have to if you fancy a lie in.’ I added. I hoped that I sounded considerate rather than hopeful. ‘No I want to.’ he said. I huffed involuntarily. He got a bit humpy after that but wasn’t discouraged. After a much longer delay than I would have liked, a prime example of man faffing, we got in the car.
I have my own little routine while shopping. Hot Stuff doesn’t get it. It just doesn’t suit his way of doing things. ‘It would be much better for you to have a paper list.’ he counselled this time . I stuck my middle finger up behind his back. My phone app is perfectly fine. He went on to micromanage purchasing on the grounds of personal preference, alleged quality and price. Extra non list items were added to the basket. It was the clash of the control freaks until he headed to the ‘Middle of Lidl’ to peruse the specials. Phew! I heaved a sigh of relief and tried to rush around and get everything else before he returned.
When he comes back he’s normally in proud possession of yet another thing that ‘we need’: a power tool, weird kitchen appliance or maybe yet another torch. Honestly we could light up Blackpool with his collection. This week it was just a bottle of shower gel because ‘I never buy any.’ That’s because I’m never asked to put it on the list. There’s always another battle at the till. Apparently I scan things in the wrong order and pack things wrongly. And of course, the final drama comes when we get back home. Is it a surprise that I put everything away in the wrong place?