"Going to the chapel and we're gonna get married"

This is an old blog entry of mine, from back in 2009, and I bring it to this board because it speaks, perhaps to some of the issues we face:

(Dixie Cups reference)

I used the above musical reference because I wallked down the aisle with my wife this afternoon and evening. In fact, I walked down aisle after aisle after aisle.

I said that I was going to the grocery store to acquire a few things (24 things, to be precise, all of them neatly packaged in one attractive box) and innocently asked my son to come along with me. My wife, who had, I thought, had her share of shopping for the day behind her, owing to the garage sales, buying a lawn mower without seeing if it even worked, things of that sort, I felt pretty sure would pass on this, but I was wrong.

It turns out, once Favorite Son Number One realized that wife and I were both going, and perhaps adding in that she was going to wear her first shorts of the year (blinders, folks!) and that I was, well, going, he decided to opt out and watch some of the greatest early season baseball and late season basketball that I have ever missed, especially for a mere grocery expedition.

Normally, I would not let this happen. Normally, my wife does the shopping. It is not a macho thing, before you get your dander up. It is simply that she believes in coupons and comparison shopping while I believe in getting in and getting out. This means that I might buy a can of tuna (if I am so inclined) for a couple of bucks, because it happens to be at the store I am walking through with a cart (if I am smart enough to realize I am going to need one) while she will go to several stores, find the same tuna, quality tuna, for a much lower price, apply a coupon, and nearly get it for free.

She has been known, to be honest, to GET things for free, when all is said and done. It is a tough job but someone has to do it.

I am not that someone. My tendency, and perhaps I am giving myself too much credit with that word, my URGING, is to go into the store with items in mind, go to the aisles where they are perched, pick them up, regardless of price, and then go staggering to the counter or whatever you call it overloaded because I somehow did not think a cart would be required (and that is why I ask my son to attend these sessions with me, you see).

Before I go any further, be advised that my son has been known to travel with me to the grocery store. He has been known to travel with his mom to the grocery store. But he was probably seven or 10 the last time he went with BOTH of us to the grocery store. That says, of course, that we do not find grocery shopping to be, generally, one of those treasured family experiences, and also that he thinks, I guess, that we will either start fighting or groping one another 10 minutes inside of the store.

That is just a supposition of course. Maybe, in this case, it was the prospect of his mom in the store in shorts. I know that when we entered, a lot of people left immediately, seemingly like those zombies from Night of the Living Dead, stumbling, staggering, covering their eyes. It will be alright. We live at the Beach. She is just working it.

Okay.

Probably a good choice by Ry. We took my car, Corrine and me, which meant I wouldn't be nagging about her driving and I wouldn't be puking out of a window (or, maybe I would). It meant we would get there fast and we would only go to one store, and we would get in and get out while pretty much ignoring local speed limits.

I'm just saying.

We got there, we went in, I pulled out a cart, and Corrine said she wanted to push the cart (she has a bum foot still, and although it is getting better, there is some concern there).

That was fine with me. My problem, of course, is hanging back while she lags along if you know what I mean, and I think SOME OF YOU DO. I would go down an aisle, turn up the next...and there was no Corrine. I would hear, eventually, "I'm right here."

Do not think I am cruel. Okay, do.

To be honest, it was rather fun for both of us. We only rarely shop together, and it turns out that I would buy a lot more crap if she was with me every time I went to the store.

We had a three-fold mission, and the first two parts of it were fairly easy. They consisted of, what does Corrine want? What does Ryan want?

The third part, the one that took us through two very interesting games on TV, was, What does Joe want, and what can Joe eat?

If you have ever been hungry and gone to the grocery store, you know, YOU KNOW, that this was a mistake. NEVER buy food when you are hungry.

The same applies for head/neck cancer survivors still trying to learn what they can and cannot eat, espcially if they are hungry: NEVER, EVER, let them decide what they can eat. It is a fantasy world. And this is why it took so long.

I knew this from previous excursions. So I weighed, and I measured. I considered. The culprit was my wife.

"I't's only $2, if you can't eat it, Ryan will."

I heard that over and over.

And over.

And that is to say nothing of my own shenanigans. I bought things that I WANT to eat rather than things that I CAN eat. Corrine considers this progress. I consider it stupidity and a waste of money. (To be honest, she really did have to push me in this direction. I kept saying, "I can't eat that," and she kept saying, "You've eaten it before," or, "I think you can."

Bottom line: my son called to ask if we were okay. I am sure he decided that we had been in an accident or had bolted on him for Cozumel.

It was fun, it really was. Dreaming is always fun, I suppose. Turning the dreams into reality is another story altogether. I like to think I am up for it.

Wait, here is the real bottom line: If I had gone to the store by myself, I might have spent $40 or $50, but, instead, I walked out of there with a $160 grocery bill.

If I have not told you this already, when I got home, when I unloaed the car, when I helped store the goods, when Ryan had filled me in on the games' endings I had missed, I said to him, "Man, we get more stuff with your mom than if I had gone alone!"

He just said, rather enthusiastically, "I know."