I asked my husband, who hates the grocery store as much as I hate it when someone starts screaming in the middle of the night and wakes me up demanding water, to pick up a gallon of milk the other day on his way home. When I opened the fridge to pour some in my daughter’s sippy cup, I found a sealed, but partially full container with white, sticky goop coating it.
This quick honey–to-do task turned into an hour ordeal. He had to go back to the store to exchange the milk. If he didn’t hate the grocery store so much, I would think he was plotting to keep me from asking him to make more purchases on his way home.
The complexity he sees in this simple task baffles me. He’s like a broken vending machine. I ask for Doritos and I end up with Snow Balls. And, Snow Balls suck. This is where my husband would start laughing that I said the word “balls” twice. Yes, there are men out there who do this. It’s not just funny for Beavis or Butthead, kids.
I think he actually sits at the grocery store and pulls all of the grapes off the vine just to annoy me. He must. How can he possibly find the one bag where all of the grapes are smooshed at the bottom?
I think he carries around a bag of mold with him, if that’s even possible. I’ve been dispensed moldy strawberries and moldy cheese on a few occasions. Broken or open boxes are a routine occurrence. Maybe there’s a store for men that only sells busted up or open boxes at wholesale and he’s pocketing the profits?
Then, there was the time I asked him to buy a cake at the store. They have many pre-made, different cakes there in all price ranges from $2-10. This was the one time where he called me to see if I was ok with strawberry shortcake. I said, “sure, thanks for asking.” He came home with a $20 cake! In my excitement for his caring call to check on my tastes, I forgot to ask the price.
I have tried everything to make his shopping excursions quicker and easier. I have listed products by aisle from right to left and left to right. I have given him a price cap on certain items, just to keep the price in check. Wine is a particularly difficult purchase, as the range is so vast. I mean, I don’t mind if he buys me Rombauer by mistake, but our bank account does.
Speaking of wine, I spent a few minutes (okay, more like 20) whining about all of this with my mommy friends. It’s just not possible to accumulate this many shopping mishaps without a maniacal, master plan of some sort [insert picture bubble of any of your husbands rubbing their hands together, letting out a devious and devilish laugh with the Count from Sesame Street’s voice. “Mmm, wah, hah, hah, hah…”] Makes you mad, right?
Well, one of my friend’s suggested Skype and it has saved me all of this unnecessary stress. Now, every time he goes to the store, he calls me on Skype and gets approval before he buys anything. I can see prices. I can point out broken or battered boxes. The only thing I can’t do is knock on or feel the melons. This is where my husband would start laughing because I said “melons”. Skype, Apple, Microsoft, anyone? Get it together and figure out how to let me feel those melons!
Part 2 of how Skype saves marriages will be coming soon. There has to be a way to use it as a babysitter.