Posts Tagged ‘Shopping’

.. y’know, marriage isn’t easy.

Marriage that comes along with boys that were never properly disciplined.. or never had a steady female influence :: the “good” kind :: is even worse.

But you guys know this.. I mean, you READ this blog, right? I’m sure there are times that people in my life wished I wasn’t so much of an open book!! LOL!!

Ahhh... be still my heart!!


So today we had a few errands to run and one of them was to pick up laundry detergent. Laundry before Weed came to stay was bad enough.. now, with his clothes PLUS the two and a half trash bags of dirty clothes he brought over.. I went through the whole bottle of detergent I had just bought.

We get to the market and I’m scanning the shelves looking for the cheapest detergent. Let’s face it, I know that there’s more water then anything in the cheap stuff but considering how long they have the clothes on their bodies and how often I wash, they’re clothes aren’t THAT dirty.

Anyway.. so I’m checking out prices and didn’t realize that Chief had wandered off on his own until I hear “… PSST!! Leese!!”

I turn around and there he is holding up the mega container of Tide. You know the one.. it sits on it’s side and has the little pump thing like a water cooler?

I gave a deep sigh.

I LOVE TIDE!! I love it’s smell.. I love how little of it I need.. I love how clean and fresh it makes my clothes.. but it’s just SO. DARN. EXPENSIVE!!

And I can’t even say that being responsible for kids now has stopped me from buying it.. I HARDLY bought it because of it’s price. Maybe twice a year when I was working in those months when you go three paychecks.

I know he’s messing with me but I walk up to him and gently caress the bottle.. sigh again.. and say, “.. if only!”

He called me a goofball :: his term of endearment :: and we grabbed the cheap stuff and did the rest of what we had to do.

Fast forward to home.

Weed and Bubba are playing on the Playstation… Spaz was still in school.. both dogs are noshing on pork bones.

Chief is on his side of the bed with his laptop and I’m on my side of the bed on my laptop.

HIM: Hey.. Leese.. did you know you can go on Proctor and Gambles’ website and they will send you free samples. All you have to do is fill out a survey?

ME: Uh-huh.. I was thinking about doing that after we move.

HIM: Oh.  I didn’t know that. I was trying to get you a free sample of Tide and found it.

ME: << insert soupy-goopy-I-so-love-you-right-now awwwww!!! >>

HIM:  What?

ME: You were going to get me Tide!!

HIM: Um.. yeeeaaaaa???

ME: No! You were going to get me TIDE!!!!!!!

HIM: Yeeeaaaaaaaa????

ME: O!M!G! YOU were going to get ME TIDE!!! I love you soooo much!!

HIM: Goof ball!

… because what I don’t think he gets because he’s MALE is that going online and trying to get me a free sample of Tide is a whole lot better then him actually buying it for me!!

me <3’s him!


This is DEFINITELY a man thing. And for all you men out there who are reading this YOU KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!!!

So this has to do with the Christmas .. and what I got for Christmas..

Now, let just say this right now. I think I’m the EASIEST person to buy something for because I appreciate anything. It really doesn’t matter what the gift “IS” .. To me, it the thought that you went out and actually looked for something that you think I might like that makes me go all gaga over it.

NOTE: Ok .. don’t do the whole WHAT ABOUT IF THEY JUST RAN INTO TARGET AND GRABBED SOMETHING OFF THE SHELF WITHOUT ANY THOUGHT AT ALL thing. Let’s just stick to the story and how I’m so goddamn noble for appreciating anything!!

So Chief.. having dangling things between legs.. asks me :: rather PLEADS with me :: “… tell meeee whaaaaat I can geeeeeet yooooou!!!”

Ok.. so .. if I have to TELL you what you want, then it really doesn’t meet my “gift” criteria. So the answer is always the same “.. Nope, cuz it doesn’t matter”. And he usually does a good job because you know, DIAMONDS are always a good gift, right girls?

This year, Christmas was a bitch. My unemployment check fell on the 23rd which meant nothing but running around to all ends of the earth.. then bringing everything over to Birds :: because the little heathens would search hell and high water to see what they were getting :: and then wrapping everything then driving all over creation to deliver gifts to the people that I wasn’t going to actually SEE for the holiday :: ie: Mom, Brother, etc. :: .. It was so intense that I’m seriously thinking of becoming a Jehovah’s Witness next year. Don’t mean to be offensive but they don’t do gifts so.. yknow.. that’s alright with me!

The Monday or Tuesday before Christmas, me and Chief were walking home from the shop

ME: I’m like.. really REALLY stressing over Christmas shopping
CHIEF: YOU? I’m practically pissing my pants
ME: Why the hell would you be pissing your pants?
CHIEF: Duh! Were we not just talking about shopping?
ME: Hmph. Like you’re doing any shopping
CHIEF: I have to get you something, dumbass.. and I can’t drive, remember?
ME: Yea.. but you only have to worry about ME.. I have to worry about EVERYBODY else. I’d rather have your deal, Bucky.

So the following day we were in the shop with Weed when the conversation started again..

ME: Hey! Yknow what? You worried about what to get me? Get me a dryer. You don’t even need to drive.. just walk your ass across the street. There. Simple. Done. See how easy that was?

CHIEF: I can’t get you an APPLIANCE for Christmas..

ME: Who says?

CHIEF: It isn’t right..

ME: It’s right if that’s what I want..

CHIEF: I’ve made fun of guys who bought their wives appliances for Christmas

ME: You mean to tell me you wouldn’t think I would be tickled pink if I woke up Christmas morning with a chrome LG Front Loading dryer in the basement with a big ass bow on it?

CHIEF: I’m not getting you a dryer. That’s something that we have to go shopping for together

ME: Are you fucking KIDDING me? You’re saying buying a dryer is a “couple’s” thing?

CHIEF: Nope. Not doing it.


CHIEF: and you’ll get one. Just not for Christmas.

ME: But I hate going to the laundromat and I’m backed up on clothes because the kids aren’t in school and I thought you’d be SMART ENOUGH to REALIZE that a dryer is THE. PERFECT. GIFT.

CHIEF: (rolling eyes) I’m going to get you a dryer. AFTER the holidays


WEED: I think I’d get her the dryer, Dad.

The next day, Christmas Eve, he was going out to get me my gift and kept getting hung up at the shop. I kept trying to push him out the door, “.. yknow, the longer you wait the crappier my gift gets”.

So he goes and me and Weed are working and he says something about how he thinks he knows what I’m getting. It better be a fucking dryer, I tell him. He gulps and says that he doesn’t think it is.

At this point, I ‘m thinking that I am getting a dryer and it’s this big conspiracy to make me think that I’m not. Chief’s an ass when it comes to doing stuff like that to me.

He’s gone for HOURS. I mean.. HOURS. I actually didn’t think I was going to see him again until after the new year because like.. what normal person goes out on CHRISTMAS EVE to get his woman a gift?

Don’t answer that!

He finally comes back and tells me to NOT look in the back seat of the wagon. Ok. Find. A Dryer wouldn’t fit in the back seat of the wagon anyway.

I tell him that I hope he didn’t look in the back of the wagon because two of his gifts were back there. I already know he didn’t because he’s just oblivious to everything and like a typical man, if it isn’t right in front of his face, he doesn’t see it.

At first he says no.. but I convince him that they would be a bitch to wrap and he concedes only if he can give me one of mine. Yea.. sure.. whatever.

So I bring him in the braiser and stock pot he’s been drooling over for the past 6 months at the restaurant supply place and his reaction was just like the one I would have when I woke up Christmas morning and found a functioning dryer down my basement with a big red bow on it.

He’s all happy and I’m all happy that he’s all happy.

So he tells me to close my eyes and then tells me to open them. When I do, he has a box with this in it:

He tells me that he just SO wants to be done with the divorce and marry me on a cruise to Jamaica.

And yeah, I did the whole misty eyed girl thing because I actually am a girl and you know.. so who cares that he has an alternative reason for wanting our destination to be Jamaica..

So we go home and I’m still looking for signs around the house that SOMEONE had delivered and installed a dryer on CHRISTMAS EVE!! But nope. Nothing.

Christmas morning comes and I’m still hoping upon hope that the gift bag from him sitting under the tree has like, one of those doll house dryers in it. Cause, yknow, that’s something I would do if the situation was reverse.

But no. It was a Tom Tom. Now why the HELL he would get me a Tom Tom is beyond me because I’ve told him countless times that I didn’t see a use for them and would much rather rely on an old fashioned map if I got lost somewhere.

Which seldom happens because I’m good with directions and shit like that.

But .. yknow.. guess it’s that whole MALE LISTENING THING AND THEIR INABILITY TO DO THAT!

And so I didn’t get a dryer for Christmas.. and in fact, still don’t have one because we got into a financial hole because of Christmas and because my unemployment ran out.

But all of the above wouldn’t be nearly a FRACTION as bad if the following conversation held in the car the day after Christmas had never taken place:

CHIEF: You know, I rode up and down the Pike trying to figure out what to get you. I stopped here.. I stopped there.. I stopped at this other place.

ME: (Choking on the smoke that I had just inhaled) WHAT?

CHIEF: Yea.. omg.. you’re SO hard to buy for.

ME: W.H.A.T??????

CHIEF: I know you say your so easy to buy for because you like anything but that actually puts a lot more pressure on a person.


CHIEF: Geez, Leese.. what are you getting so strung out about?

ME: Did I not tell you I wanted a dryer? The ONLY fucking time I EVER told you what I wanted and you spent HOW MANY HOURS trying to figure out what to get me??

CHIEF: Did you really want it that bad?

ME: You’re an idiot

I’m keeping my fingers crossed for Valentine’s Day .. and for the sake of male solidarity, I suggest all you men out there do the same thing.

Today at the supermarket, I had a not-quite-so-little run in with someone over in the meat department… then then moved to the check out lines.. which then lead into the parking lot.

Who knew people would get so damn territorial about the last family pack of chicken breasts on sale for 1.79 a pound?

It all started when a woman was standing in front of the as-fore-mentioned family pack of chicken breasts on sale for 1.79 a pound.. and obviously couldn’t decide if she was going to stick it up her ass in her cart or not. So I.. being the COURTEOUS shopper that I am, passed the meat section and went down a few other aisles to give her time to really REALLY mull over her decision.

I had to be away about a good 10 or 15 minutes. I know it was pretty long because I, myself, was indecisive about buying Nutrisse Garnier Hair Dye #40 or #46.

Hey.. it’s a big decision. SO big that my grey roots are probably about an inch long.

Pressed for time, I decided to deal with the hair later and went back to the meat department.

Chicken lady was still there and I didn’t have much more time to waste :: my Dunkin’ Donuts coffee was getting cold in the car :: so I went there, excused myself with the sweet, little smile I use in situations like this :: and grabbed the last family pack of chicken breasts that were on sale for 1.79.

HER: What do you think your doing?
ME: Excuse me? ( no sarcasm yet )
HER: I was buying that?
ME: What?
HER: You heard me.. I was buying that?

<< this is where the sarcasm starts >>

ME: You were WHAT?
HER: I was buying that
ME: You were not..
HER: I was so..
ME: Ma’am.. You’ve been standing here for God knows how long. If you were going to buy it, you would have put it in your cart by now
HER: How do you know what I was going to do. Do you know what I’m making for dinner tonight?
ME: Clearly not chicken.. because I’M making chicken and I INTENDED to make chicken which is why the chicken is in MY cart.
ME: I don’t sell chicken.

And then I just walked away because OBVIOUSLY this woman had been tweeking with her medication.

So I go up to the check out lines and you know.. it’s a Friday.. so it’s kind of crowded.. I grab the latest edition of People Magazine and start reading it. Secretly hoping that I’ll finish it before it’s my turn so I don’t have to actually buy it.

A few minutes goes buy and out of the corner of my ear I hear:

Well, I was GOING to buy the last pack of chicken breasts but SHE almost grabbed it right out of my hands and wouldn’t give it back.

I wasn’t going to turn around.. I really wasn’t. I know my momma raised me better then that.

But you know, my father didn’t.

So I turn around and tell her that she just needs to give it up. If you can’t decide to buy that last family pack of chicken breasts at a 1.79 a pound in FIFTEEN minutes then the laws of the super market say it’s fair game. Or something like that.

She then says that she is on a fixed income.. and why the HELL should I buy chicken at 1.79 a pound when I own a store and CLEARLY can afford to pay full price.

My response?

.. because I need to afford the fuel to my private jet so that I can fly to my Hawaiian getaway and watch the sunset every other night.

While this was going on, my stuff was being checked out so it wasn’t very long before I paid my bill and started to my car.

I was literally laughing out loud at the whole thing while walking to my car.. and while loading the stuff into my car.

You can’t tell me that God doesn’t have a sense of humor because guess who was parked in the row behind me, two cars over…


Chicken Lady..

Still calling me out about the damn chicken.

I felt like getting the chicken out of the car… ripping open the package and slathering myself with it.. but then I wouldn’t have anything to cook for dinner tonight so I appeased myself by just giving another variety of bird.

All that made me think of a post that I read a long time ago by The Jenni.

It took me hella long to find it but I’m copying it here because.. really.. it’s just too good not to read:

There should be a contract that all people of the earth should have to sign before grocery shopping. Grocery store etiquette has gotten way out of control lately people! Todays grocery shopping experience was enough to make me want to hire a personal shopper so I don’t have to deal with the madness. Here are a few things on my personal grocery store etiquette list:

-Just because you drive a Hummer, doesn’t mean your shopping cart is bigger and better than mine. I have shopping to do also, and I drive my shopping cart nicely. Drive friendly people! Its only groceries not a race to the finish!

-If you decide you need to ponder which macaroni is really the cheesiest, make sure your cart is not parked in the CENTER of the isle. No one can get around you either way, and we don’t feel like watching you slowly sprout roots where you are standing. Park to one side or the other, preferably on the same side that your roots have sprouted so other people can pass you without having to bump into your cart or your bootie.

-When shopping in the produce department and have a sudden allergy attack, please at least cover your mouth, or a great idea- flee the area. I do not feel like watching your saliva and snot fly through the air and onto the grapes I wanted to buy before you contaminated them. And please use the hand you didn’t just cover with germs to squeeze the tomatoes, Id like to go home without your DNA if at all possible.

-If you bring your children, please pay attention to them. I don’t feel like chasing your four year old because he is threatening to eat the raw meat he snagged from my cart. I am not Captain Salmonella, but that can’t be healthy. If you decide to drive them around in the giant green car shaped cart, please be aware that people have ankles, and they do not enjoy having them run over. Once again, just because your cart is bigger and greener and shaped like a race car or a truck, doesn’t mean it is better than mine. See rule #1.

-If I am walking in the isles and you are following behind me, make sure you have ample room in case I decide to actually stop my cart and grab something. I do not enjoy being rear ended. Please pass to the left if you feel I am walking too slowly. Do not tailgate, it’s just not nice, and it makes me feel rushed.

-If I have ten items or less I use the checkout that is labeled quite clearly “10 items of less”. If you have 45 items, you need to go to a different checkout. I will be happy to help you count, but if I’m in that lane, I only count to ten sorry.

-Tapping me in the butt with your cart will not speed up the checkout line. Plainly there are other people in front of us, and it is not your turn yet. Be patient, or things could start to get ugly. Your warning will be a dirty look, after that I can’t promise there won’t be condiments thrown at you.

-If I am loading my items onto the conveyer belt, please wait until I have emptied my cart before loading your items in behind mine. I will signal you when I am finished by politely placing a plastic divider on the conveyer after my last item. If I have not placed the plastic divider yet, and I am still bending to grab items from my cart- that means I am NOT DONE YET. Please wait for me to empty my cart.

-If you are in front of me at checkout, and are about to sign your check, you are not allowed to go grab “just one more thing” before you pay. I don’t feel like waiting for you to find the panty liners you forgot. That is not my fault and I shouldn’t be punished for it. If you forgot something- too bad, go back to start, do not pass go-do not collect $200.

-And finally, just because you are a soccer mom and drive a Hummer does not mean that driving through the parking lot against the arrows is permissible. I don’t care how many kids you have and how many stickers you have for their teams on the back window of your SUV, the arrows are there for a reason.

It’s all about patience and politeness people! What happened to being polite and following the rules?

Dammit I forgot to buy Midol.

Okay.. so I think I may have described Bubba to you before. At 14, he’s around 6’1″ – 2″.. has a 17.2″ neck.. a 40″ waist and a 13.5 / 14 shoe size.

He goes through sneakers like nobody’s business and alot of that has to do with just his size .. and the fact that he’s a boy.

So Friday at the store, he asks why his socks turn blue and I told him it was from the dye used on the suede of his sneakers. He told me that he needed new ones.. and showed me where the upper is coming away from the lower. So I told him that he was at a size now where he really needs to try stuff on because it’s getting harder and harder to just go to a WalMart of KMart or Kohl’s or Target and 1) find his size and 2) not drop a paycheck on them :: I reserve that right for me!! ::

He wound up going to the crack whore’s.

NOTE: Actually, I drove him… even though the shop is literally 2 blocks away. But apparently, it was drizzling a little and she didn’t want him walking in it and become sick.

Chief asked him why SHE couldn’t pick him up and Bubba said because she was sick herself.

Now.. is it me but if YOU don’t want someone walking in the rain because they might get sick.. why do you want them to come over if YOUR sick? Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose of not getting sick?

Ok.. I thought so.. sometimes I think I need to start popping Neo pills to curb my logical mind!

Anyway… so fast forward to Saturday. Bubba walks in somewhere between 2pm and 4pm. I had actually taken the morning off to re-establish my Saturday morning routine of cleaning the house but still went down to the store because he gets swamped between 1 and 4.

So Bubba and his friend come in.. grab something to eat.. and ask if he could have some tokens so that they can take the trolley to the creek.

NOTE: We life just barely out of walking distance to a creek that’s used for fishing, swimming, etc. and Bubba and his friends go there all the time.

Chief gives him the tokens and Bubba mentions that he doesn’t have any shoes to wear that can get wet. I asked him what time he thought he’d be home and he said 7pm. Fine.. come home at 7 and I’ll take you to get sneakers.

And he did. He came home.. and right after, Chief came home. Chief thought it would be neat to go get Bubba sneakers.. grab something to eat and then go see a movie.

The four of us.


He wanted to do that.

The movie didnt start until 9 so we had plenty of time for me to take a quick shower.

I take maybe.. I don’t know.. a 10 minute shower? :: that’s long for me but I had to shave my legs!! :: and while I’m in my bedroom putting clothes on, Bubba knocks on the door asking if Chief or I knew how to dry shoes.

Chief makes this face like, “… what the HELL are you talking about, boy?” and calls out that I’ll be ready in a few minutes and then we’re leaving to get him new ones.

Bubba said that he wanted to go out with his friends..

I gave Chief the same “… what the HELL are you talking about, boy?” face and told Bubba that he either gets new sneakers or goes out with his friends.. don’t know what else to tell you.. it’s one or the other.

Bubba decides to go out with his friends.

Chief was pissed and when I asked why he let him go he said that if he forced him, he was only going to be miserable and make us miserable and start picking at Spaz. His reasoning was that he was the one with the wet shoes and if going out with his friends was more important then oh..well. He’ll get new sneakers but on OUR time.. not his.

So I asked him what the game plan was now and he said, “… you look so pretty I have to take you out.”

That was sweet.

We wound up taking Spaz to Old Country Buffet.. all in dry shoes!! LOL