No one is home this summer. The kids are at sleep away camp. It’s just me, my husband and my dog. And the three of us equals no one. No one to buy groceries for so there's really no reason to go to the grocery store. My twice daily habit of popping into the local market has dwindled to an occasional pop in for a couple of bananas (I am convinced that my house will implode if it doesn’t have three bananas, a gallon of milk and a fresh loaf of bread in it). Nothing to clean out of the fridge. Nothing to throw away on garbage day.
My husband and I went to Costco over the weekend looking for a toilet. We left with four lbs. of strawberries. You can see the connection. They did have a toilet, by the way, but it wasn’t exactly what we were looking for so we passed on it. But we didn’t pass on the pulled chicken, ice pops, veggie straws, brie and crackers or mini quesadillas they were sampling. We said “yes” to the wedge of blueberry muffin, chocolate covered acai berries and the orange drink. It all tasted great, but left me with a bad taste of guilt in my mouth. I couldn’t just walk into Costco, look around, eat all their food and walk out without buying something. I fell right for their gimmick. And at $6.48, I think I got out of there pretty cheaply (did I mention the sheet set I bought? It’s not important; they’re probably going back anyway).
Okay, so I got out of there for $84. Although the samples were quite yummy, I’m pretty sure I didn’t eat $84 worth of food that day. Hence, the reason the sheets may be going back. My guilt quickly passed once I got home – I swear it had nothing to do with the fact that the sheets don’t match the comforter. I simply came to my senses and realized that I am not at all obligated to buy anything at those big box stores just because they feed me. After all, I pay them a yearly fee. Come to think of it, I probably should have eaten more.
It’s pretty hard to justify a membership to Costco when you are only feeding a family of four and hate to entertain on the weekends. Which is why I have a membership to Sam’s too. It’s for the same reason I have those bananas and bread at home – fear. What if for some strange reason I needed to go to Sam’s Club to buy a year’s worth of paper towels but I didn’t have a membership because I was trying so hard to be practical and all of my Sam’s Club friends weren’t home to take me and I was completely out of paper towels and had to use toilet paper to clean my mirrors? Oh, no. Maybe I had run out of toilet paper too and Target had closed because of a power outage and now I had no paper towels or toilet paper and had to use tissues for everything but I only had the tissues with lotion in them and they are just terrible for cleaning mirrors. The horror. You see how my mind works? You see why I belong to two big box stores?
Sure, you’re laughing at my neuroses, but I’ll be the one laughing when the world comes to an end and I take out my survival kit and hunker down with my four lbs. of strawberries and mismatched sheets. Uh oh. I just realized I don’t have a survival kit, and I’m thinking that my 12 cans of black olives won’t do the trick. How late do you think Costco is open?
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