The baby has been sick for a couple of days so I’m behind on the grocery shopping. G came home tonight and we decided that he would run to Kroger for some sandwiches and essentials. I requested much-needed Diet Coke and an Italian sandwich. He wrote those in a list and added milk, fruit and something for breakfast. Vivi requested a treat, “something Halloween but not pumpkin flavor.” (That’s my girl!)
Here’s what he brought home an hour later:12 pack of Diet Coke bottle of wine (for Mama, because the man is no fool) 2 bags of yogurt berry rice cakes 2 jars of peanut butter NutriGrain bars cornichons stuffed grape leaves Dalmatian fig preserves brie pepper crackers gallon of milk one Boar’s Head Authentic Italian hoagie 2 quarts of strawberries 1 pint of blackberries 8 green bananas 3 cans of Axe body spray 2 tubes of Old Spice deodorant razor blades dozen chocolate chip cookies dozen glow in the dark cupcakes with 100% unnatural ingredients TOTAL: $124.75 (For dinner, he and I had to split the sandwich and feed Vivi an old can of chicken noodle soup. But we did discover that she likes cornichons.)
Hey, it’s his money–he can blow it on blackberries in October if he chooses to. He did a kind thing, bringing treats for all of us.
And the whole episode reminded me of the utter delight I felt as a kid when Daddy went to the grocery store. Back then, my dad worked six days a week as a country veterinarian. Sometimes on Saturday, he’d swing by O’Neal’s Grocery on the way home at lunch. He came in the yellow front door with a wooden case of RC Colas clinking against each other. A plump loaf of Sunbeam bread and a stack of fresh-sliced baloney (not bologna, BALONEY) to fry up for sandwiches with bright yellow mustard. Bags of salty potato chips and some Mayfield chocolate almond ice cream getting soft on the top from the 7 mile drive.
Best of all in my young eyes, he’d even bring a People magazine with Three’s Company or Mork and Mindy on the cover. Oh, bliss on a Saturday afternoon. A cold RC. A belly full of fried baloney sandwiches. Greasy potato chip fingertips rubbing the ink off the corner of shiny magazine pages as I read and read and read. We didn’t live on this kind of food and we didn’t live for this kind of food, but it sure did perk up a same old Saturday back in the day.
So I’ll be the one who goes to the grocery store and buys things in season and whole grains and fresh fresh fresh. G can be the one who brings home the glow in the dark cupcakes. That’s what daddies do.