Years of dedication and proper training are required for success. No mere novice can expect to whip in and out with their eyes on the prize and assume they will leave unscathed. It doesn't happen in the sports world - or in the supermarket either.
Hapless individuals who honestly believe they can REMEMBER a full list of items are either delusional or male, which is sometimes the same thing. Men will come home with a bag of food. It will contain valuable nutritional items that will sustain the family for the week. NOT.
There will be steaks and potato chips. Moon pies and a 12 pack of soft drinks. In the interest of healthy eating, there will also be Snickers bars. After all they contain nuts which have been proved to contain all sorts of good things. And those good things are even better when coated with rich caramel and chocolate. Ice cream is a given. It's a food group.
And because the male of the species cares, he will bring home a pizza for dinner and forget all that you asked him to bring home from the fruit and vegetable aisle because he never eats those sprout things anyway.
For the female shopping olympiad, the process is a bit different.
Coupon clipping is the first part of any good shopping trip. Like warming up for a run, selection of the proper coupons and the items that will stock the pantry following this shopping trip prevents nasty injury - primary from flung food when people decree it 'too nasty to eat'.
Also, a list is mandatory. Without a list guiding your path through the store, valuable time on the clock is burned up meandering all over creation searching for who knows what since you have forgotten what you came there for.
Order of operations is next on the agenda of ritual preparation for the marathon ahead. The first column of my list ALWAYS has the essentials. You know what I am talking about - these are the items which prevent mutiny. Milk, bread, eggs - you get the gist.
The further right and down you go across the 4 columns of my list, the less essential the items.
While they make the list - they may not make it to the finish line of the shopping bag for the ride home.
Just like in the Olympics, not everyone gets the gold. And whining isn't tolerated. Taking a child shopping is just like a trip to another nation where you don't understand the language. You find yourself using the time honored ritual of speaking slowly and distinctly as if the creature in the little seat on the buggy can actually understand what you are saying.
They don't.
They only respond to the forbidden items in the store which you will not be purchasing because you actually think you are in charge. Some women can resist the efforts of the pint sized competitors and claim not only the gold but notoriety mingled with jealousy as other mascara streaked, sweat stained women struggle to keep from putting their little charges on a shelf near the sale racks.
Should you actually manage to get the majority of your list stuffed into your cart and avoid the wrangling with the other 'talent' on the trip, you will now face the worst part of the gauntlet. This makes the run through Hell's Canyon seem like a pleasant outing.
This is the part where all of your training and endurance will be brought into sharp focus. Now, you will be asked to keep your young charge's attention focused on ANYTHING besides the point of purchase shelves filled with contraband while you hope to be under budget for the buggy full of groceries.
In every store there is a legal limit on how many checkers can actually be doing their work even though there light is glowing as brightly as the finish line. You have to throw yourself into getting in the checkout line that is open and that has a checker who has worked for more than 5 minutes and can actually count change.
Remember - the Olympic flame burns brightly and the medal count is limited. Patience WILL BE REQUIRED!
The Gold Standard is rare. And it requires that you get ALL of the essentials, ALL of the side items and MOST of the "gee, that's a good idea" items and do it all under the budget and in time to get home before the wrinkle rid signal on the dryer goes off.
Should you manage this feat, you not only deserve the gold medal, but a monument in your honor.
I know, because I faltered at the finish line today.
I was compelled to make a return trip, albeit to a DIFFERENT grocery store, to buy the dessert for the dinner tonight. I know just how the 4th place finishers feel.
Gold is for winners, silver for those who are good but not great and bronze is for those who brought all they had and sucked up the fumes from the first two finishers to grasp a tiny straw of immortality. What do the rest of the pack get?
All I want to know is what does the tin-foil medal look like and which line do I stand in to receive mine?
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