It’s sad to admit, but sometimes I enjoy grocery shopping, like really enjoy it.
Give me a nice, clean, big, modern grocery store, and an uncrowded, off-peak time and I’m happy as a clam wondering up and down each aisle slowly perusing and comparing.
Since moving to Le Petit Village, I’ve not ventured out on my own to the nearest big town. But even though I am not ready to take on the small French country roads driving solo, I would still like to take on the big grocery store.
The problem is the Boyfriend.
While he has many fantastic qualities, patience, is not one of them. And to top it off, like any true red-blooded male, he abhors shopping, well shopping for anything non-electrical or tool related.
I’ve been to the grocery store twice in the last two weeks but have yet to enjoy it because the Boyfriend walks along side me, letting out long loud sighs, and huffing and puffing every couple of minutes. I give up, throwing the must have essentials into the cart, and off we go.
This time, I was prepared and had a plan. We would have lunch in the cafe next to the store and I would leave him there with the Sports page.
All I asked for was thirty minutes. He had thirty minutes to relax with the Sports page and a bowl of ice cream, and I had thirty minutes to cover the store and familiarize myself with it’s contents.
List in hand, I grabbed a cart and bolted. I would start from the far right hand side of the store first, and then head left, weaving up and down each aisle. There were no kitchen appliances or gardening products on the list but that didn’t mean I’d deprive myself of a trip up and down those aisles.
As I made my way further into the store, I was really enjoying myself (sad, I know). Something that we needed would be put in the cart, and the pink hi-lighter would strike it off the list.
Happily, I checked my watch, ten minutes gone, twenty minutes of grocery shopping fun left.
And then I spotted him.
The Boyfriend had left his ice cream and was walking the aisles looking for me. I quickly ducked and ran, but like a homing pigeon, he found me.
He smiled and grabbed the cart.
This time there was no huffing and puffing and almost everything was crossed off the list.
The Boyfriend may hate shopping, but he loves me.