Posts Tagged ‘Supermarket’

This Is NOT The Berry Dream Cake

When Chief was running the East Coast’s favorite bakery/eatery for 13 years, he had the opportunity to learn A LOT of stuff from the German bakers that worked there.

He was trained in savory.. baking and pastry is a WHOLE other animal.

But he wanted to learn and he did.

He might suck as a man.. father.. and husband.. but he rocks in the kitchen.


At the start of our relationship, he was telling me about this cake he created that was expensive to make and hella labor intensive but absolutely stunning visually and just as delicious.

He called it something then and I can’t remember it so I’ll just refer to it as a Berry Dream cake.

So the Berry Dream cake kind of became like the Holy Grail. It became like this “thing” between us.. whenever he would bake a cake, I’d ask “.. oh! Is that a Berry Dream?” .. or whenever we were at a bakery I’d say, “gee.. no Berry Dream,  huh?”

When he would ask me what I wanted for my birthday.. Christmas.. Anniversary … I’d say the Berry Dream cake.

It may not “read” funny .. but it is.. we laugh over it all the time.

Earlier today we had to go to the market. I wasn’t talking to him but didn’t want him going alone because we’re tight on money and I don’t trust him not to spend it. He’s suppose to get his income tax return in the next few days so I figured in HIS mind, it would be okay to spend whatever he wanted. In MY mind, I don’t spend anything unless it’s in my hand.

Good call.

As soon as we walked in and started walking through the produce section, he started to grab a container of blueberry.

What’s that for, I asked.

He looked at me like I caught him with his hand in the cookie jar at midnight.. “Um.. um.. well..”

ME: You’re not making the Berry Dream cake.
CHIEF: (like a little kid) It’s Valentine’s Day.. I wanted to surprise you.
ME: Surprise me? Because I’m not standing right next to you when you picked up blueberries that we have absolutely no other reason to buy.
CHIEF: Well, when was I suppose to buy them?
ME: Oh.. I don’t know.. because the market is not OPEN 24 HOURS and I don’t sleep bizarro hours??
CHIEF: True.
ME: Besides, there isn’t money in the budget to make it. End of story.

Now, given what had transpired earlier .. I know the reason for this cake isn’t because he wanted to surprise me for Valentine’s Day .. it’s because he was feeling the shade and I wasn’t going to get into there in the middle of the produce section of the supermarket.

I definitely wasn’t going to get into a little later on in the market when he said something about the Tide detergent I had hidden in my closet and just the THOUGHT of having Tide hidden in my closet made me smile.

I wish I could make you smile like that all the time.

Yea.. me too Bucky. Me too.

Peanut Butter Bandit

Posted: February 1, 2011 in Just Stuff
Tags: , ,

Chief has this thing with peanut butter .. he has to be the first person to crack it open and stick his finger in it.

Have no clue why ..

Maybe it’s because he has three brothers all close in age and one of them always got to the peanut butter first?

Or maybe it’s his equivalent to a dog lifting is leg and marking his territory..

I’m clueless .. and I really DON’T want to know..

Anyway… so you get it .. it’s a big deal.

The last time we had to buy peanut butter I figured I’d throw him a curve ball and stick my own finger in there first. Not sure how I was going to do that but as we meandered up and down the supermarket aisle, it dawned on me ..

Perfect ..

So when he wasn’t looking, I grabbed the jar and snuck it in my jacket pocket .. praying upon praying that the security cameras wouldn’t catch me..

Because really … think about trying to explain all that, right?

Once tucked safely in my jacket, I tell him I had to go to the bathroom.. no big surprise there. With the amount of coffee I drink, I pee enough for a pregnant woman. With twins.

I’m not a fan of public bathrooms.. at all .. but I made sure that I didn’t touch A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G and pulled off half a roll of paper towels so I could get to the middle guaranteed-germ-free section of the roll .. opened the jar.. cursed while trying to peel back the silver safety cover just enough so that I could replace it :: obviously put there to prevent people from opening it up in a supermarket bathroom :: and then stuck my finger in the jar.

It was better then an orgasm.



It wasn’t but almost as close!

Anyway .. I put the jar back in my pocket .. wipe the glob of peanut butter off my finger :: you really didn’t think I was going to eat it, did you? :: found Chief and covertly slipped the jar back in the cart.

Once home, I left him and the boys in the kitchen to empty the grocery bags and put thing away. They act like they’ve been deprived of anything edible when we go food shopping and if not supervised, would sit on the kitchen floor and dump all the food around them.. and gorge like they were Roman.

From my bedroom, I hear a raised voice:


And I hear the whimpers:

but i didn’t! i swear! it wasn’t me! you were right here the whole time!

Giggling, I go into the kitchen and ask what’s all the yelling about .. Chief tells me that we have to go back to the market. Somebody DARED to finger the peanut butter! Can you believe that? Don’t they know it’s a sin to waste? Now we have to go back there and convince the customer service women that WE weren’t the one’s who fingered it.

And all I did was look at him and laughed my fucking ass off.

I finally told him why the peanut butter was fingered and even though he was acting all ‘manly’ because I pulled one over on him, he had to admit that that I got him good.

So now.. what do you think is going to happen the NEXT time we buy peanut butter?

I used the last of the toilet paper after dinner.

I also used the hidden stack I keep folded between the stack of magazines on the bathroom window sill.

They don’t read.. so they’d never find it and since toilet paper runs out faster then ice cream in this house, I always make sure I keep a little bit in case of emergencies.

Can’t figure out if we use so much of it because their asses are so big or because they just use too much of it .. “waste” is a word these boys have yet to learn.

At any rate .. an hour or so after we finished eating, I made my way to the supermarket. Not only did we need toilet paper, but the dogs needed food.. the cats needed food.. and Tide was on sale.

NOTE: I will not waste Tide on their clothes. Tide will only be used on MY clothes and MY bedding because I deserve it, dammit!

So I get everything I had to get and just as I’m about to hit the check out line, my cell rings and it’s Bubba.

I haven’t actually talked to him since the blow up at dinner the other night about his school work .. and only answered it on the off chance that it was Chief.

ME: Hello?
BUBBA: Leese?

Like who else would it be?

ME: What?
BUBBA: There’s no toilet paper.
ME: I know.
BUBBA: Well, Dad said you were at the store. Are you going to buy it or something?
ME: Am I going to steal it?
BUBBA: How long to you think you’re going to be?
ME: Until I am
BUBBA: ‘Cus I’m stuck in the bathroom.
ME: I’ll get there as fast as I can.. I’m almost done.

.. and then I s.l.o.w.l.y made my way up and down every single aisle of the market again..

And every time I remembered how the slob STILL continues to leave half his piss on the floor and not wipe it up even after he’s been told a million times? I looked for something in particular and read it’s ingredients and compared the ingredients to the store brand and then compared prices and broke the price down to cents per ounce.

And when I remembered how he leaves soda bottles and soda caps all over the house.. and empty chip bags in the desk drawer and food crumbs under the desk? I went to the card aisle and read every single New Baby card trying to decide which one.. if any.. I wanted to buy.

And when I remembered how his father told him to clean all the empty bottles and dirty dishes out of the room that I just stipped down to nothing a few weeks ago and he didn’t? I read a few articles in a few different magazines and tried to figure out just how Justin Bieber gets his hair to stay that way.

Did I also mentioned I turned my phone off?

And then I went to the bathroom in the supermarket before making my to the cashier.. and sloooowly wheeled my cart to my car and gingerly loaded the bags into it before doing well below the speed limit and coming to a full stop at every stop sign until reaching home.

I then brought all the bags in the house.. conveniently forgetting the 12 pack of toilet paper that wouldn’t fit in a bag in the back of the car.

Hey.. THEY can forget everything, right? I’m allowed to once in a while!

Chief wound up telling Spaz to run out to the car and get it.. which, because it was for Bubba.. made Spaz move even SLOWER.

And I giggled the whole time.

.. I usually have an “Wanna Annoy Me” post every now and again but there were too many things today that just crawled up my ass so I figured I’d go easy on you guys and just enter one post.

Actually.. that’s not all together true. I just got back from the laundromat with 5 :: count ’em 5 :: hampers so stuffed with clean clothes that I’ll never get the wrinkles out to fold that multiple posts just isn’t Father Time’s hourglass.



Things that annoyed me today:

  1. I cut my bangs too short. I have this crazy curly hair that just magically shortens by 5 inches when you cut it. I usually leave it to the professionals :: which, I WAS one before I let my license expire :: but it got on my nerves so bad today that I dry cut it. This.. for all you non-professionals out there is when you cut your hair.. dry. Meaning, not wet. Meaning you just get done blow drying your hair and you can’t stand the way it fall into your face and annoys you that you grab the nearest scissors you can find and just start chopping. That’s a “dry cut”. The problem is when you cut your bangs yourself, you kind of get cross eyed. So it’s not a pretty thing to witness. So what was once a bang length down to my chin is now a bang length just in the middle of my eye. Too short. Long term baseball cap wear-age definitely in my future.
  2. Men who wear tighty-whities. I am allowed to say that out loud because Chief is among the tighty-whitie wearers and I am the one who has to launder his tighty-whities. I used to roll my eyes at the Spawn from Satan’s Ass because he wore tighty-non-whities and it just looked ridiculous but if there is one kind thing I can say about the Spawn, it’s that he spared me from looking at and having to handle stained underwear. And we all know underwear gets stained.. PLEASE don’t try to convince me that your’s doesn’t. My question is.. how are you not EMBARASSED by it? I have been know to wear underwear on occassion :: yes, I usually go “commando” :: but even then, one little thing that isn’t suppose to be there and they get chucked in the trash. Buried deep. So no one can see them.
  3. People who drive with handicap placards hanging from their rear view mirror. Because.. like.. it clearly states DO NOT HANG WHILE DRIVING. I know.. because my dad :: RIP :: used to have one. If you’re going to do that then I’m going to assume your handicap is of the mental variety and you shouldn’t be driving anyway. Therefore, I can’t help what comes out of my mouth when you decide your going to make a UTurn on a four lane highway from the far right lane, while I’m in the middle lane. Jerk off.
  4. .. and speaking of stuff hanging from rear view mirrors. What’s with all the damn plastic leis all of a sudden? Did I miss a memo? Forget to invite me to a party. Get that dumb shit off.
  5. People who think THEIR time is WAY MORE valuable then mine. You know the whole issue we’re having with Bubba and school, right? Well, I’ve been in email communication with his primary teacher and since today was report card day, she suggested that I go to the high school at 4:30 so that I can have a sit down meeting with all his teachers. 4:30. I KNOW she said 4:30. I KNOW she said 4:30 because when she said 4:30 all kinds of things started running through my head like, “Will Chief be able to close the store and come with?” .. “Do I leave Bubba home alone?”.. “Will I be able to pick Bubba up at 2:20 and then go to the wholesalers and make it back in time?” .. so yea.. I KNOW she said 4:30. So what happens? I get to the school at 4:30 and no one. Anywhere. I check the library where we were suppose to meet and it’s empty except for someone that’s somewhere in the back who won’t respond to my HELLOs or EXCUSE MEs only to make an appearance after I roamed all over an empty school :: so much for fucking security :: and happen to see the above mentioned someone in the middle of the library vacuuming. When asked the whereabouts of the teachers, she looked at me in disgust and told me that report cards weren’t going to be given out until 6… with an attitude. But no bigger then the one I was already carrying around. So I drive back to the shop fuming and then drive back to the school fuming and when finally face to face with the primary teacher, she tells me that she smugly told me that she had something to do. If Bubba’s education was NOT as important as it is I would have dropped the cow on her fat ass. Immediately.
  6. My father in law telling me he can’t believe I stayed with his son this long. That annoyed me. Maybe because it’s true and I know it’s true. Dunno. Must ponder that one.
  7. Missing school pictures. OH how that annoyed me! If you read some of my recent previous posts, you know that the Crack Whore was throwing up accolades in my direction because I sent her a message that I had Spaz’s school picture for her. Well, today, Spaz got out of school early and because .. well, I don’t really know “because” .. anyway, he called the Crack Whore and she how ever it happened, she came by the shop and took him somewhere. I was in the back.. didn’t see her.. didn’t care. BUT I figured when I got home, I better sort out the pictures because I wanted to put which ever ones in the Thanksgiving cards I got for Chief’s brother, my mom, etc. So when I get home.. there’s no 8×10. There WAS an 8×10 because I ordered and 8×10.. and even if I didn’t think I ordered an 8×10, I clearly remember the day that Spaz came home with them and pulled the 8×10 out of the envelope because I told him to put it back before his sticky candy fingers smudged it. I have a wall lined with their 8×10 school pictures so I know there was one. So I call the Crack Whore and leave a message to have Spaz call me because there’s a missing 8 x fucking 10 picture missing. About an hour and a half goes by and he calls and asks if I want to talk to him and I ask him if he took the picture. He said no.. and if there was ever a time that I could tell this child was lying it was then. The pause.. the stutter.. all neon arrows. He tells me that I didn’t order one. Now.. excuse me.. my brain cells are not swimming in anything chemical. It’s sharp as a tack so to try and convince me that I didn’t order one only inflamed me more. That and the fact that the edging that was on the 8 x fucking 10 picture was cut. And not in a straight line. We had issues with pictures before, me and the Crack Whore. Especially when she stole Weed’s prom picture. Yes. You read that right. STOLE. So I’m not putting it past her that she asked about the pictures and Spaz gave her the 8 x fucking 10. What I’m more pissed about is that she made him lie about it. So tonight at dinner, after he came home from her crack den, I told him that I wanted the picture back. That no one but me and him knew where the pack was. He started pulling his drama queen shit which further proved he had lied. So Chief gave him the opportunity to come clean saying that it’s understandable if he did because he’s just a little boy but he had to be honest about it. Which of course, made Sarah Bernhardt rise from the dead. And so I got pissed. Because I paid the $60 that I didn’t have for these pictures and I told Chief, he could call her all he wants.. she’s not going to ‘fess up to it. Because she never does. But I will tell you one thing.. in a few days that picture is going mysteriously turn up.. or I’m going to hear, “oh.. I forgot!’ or “I didn’t know you were talking about THAT picture”. I’ll bet you any amount of money on that.
  8. Supermarkets that tell you that you CANNOT get the free turkey that is owed you for spending over three hundred dollars on their discount card because you lost the receipt that says you are entitled to a free turkey because you spent over three hundred dollars on their discount card. Since my father in law is coming over for dinner Thursday, I need a fucking turkey. Because as un-traditional as Chief is.. he CAN’T have ham :: of which I have one frozen in the freezer :: on Thanksgiving. It HAS to be turkey. It’s the TRADITION. I rolled my eyes at him and said, “.. you’re fucking kidding me, right?” Which, of course, he wasn’t. So I drive over to the supermarket .. grab a frozen bird :: AND thinking that if any bird deserved to be frozen right then it was Chief’s :: and when I get to the counter I remember that I don’t have the coupon. Not only don’t I have the coupon but I realize that I have no clue where it’s at. No problem. I have my discount card on my keyring. So I run out to the car to get my keys :: yes, I put my keys in the glove box if I know I’m not going to need a damn discount card because I always lose them and my car has coded locks so it’s not like I’d be locked out. :: come back into the store only to have the cashier tell me that I need the coupon. UH-UH! I have the discount card. She says it doesn’t matter.. that she has to ring up the card along with the coupon and bedlam ensues. Because I want someone who gets paid more then the cashier does to tell me that my discount card is NOT good enough.. because if the damn card can tell them everything about everything I’ve purchased then why the hell can’t it tell them that I get a free turkey. But of course, this is the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and the crowd behind me is looking for things to impale me with so I told her that I would return tomorrow to speak with the manager. Then I went home and told Chief we were starting a new tradition and having ham, dammit.
  9. Cats that chew on a ridiculously expensive pair of boots that have been stored in the deepest, darkest depth of my closet since last winter REALLY ANNOY me. I mean REALLY annoyed me. Annoyed me so much that I started to believe that the author of “Puss In Boots” had a cat that chewed on a ridiculously expensive pair of boots and made him pay for it dearly. Or maybe that’s what I was thinking when I found my boots were chewed. Hard to tell. I was annoyed.

Well.. I think y’all had enough of my ranting for now. I still have two hampers of laundry to fold and the laptop battery is running low.

Wish me a better day tomorrow.. either that, or send me a REALLY good recipe for spiked egg nog!

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.