A few of my besties and I were chatting the other day. And it just so happened to be over some wine. We got on the subject of the hubses, as we often do. Bless their hearts.
Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary defines a martyr as: a person who pretends to suffer or who exaggerates suffering in order to get praise or sympathy.
I do the grocery shopping. I budget the money for it. I know what everyone likes. I know what stores have the best of everything. After doing it for so long, it just becomes second nature and it’s not that big of a deal. But every once in a while Beau goes to the store. Like the other day.
First thing he says when he walks in the door is, do you know how expensive that was? Um, yes. I’m acutely aware of how much groceries cost. Then he proceeds to put on a pair of sunglasses and ask me if I like them. I reply they’re cute. Not sure how they’ll taste, but they look nice on you.
Here’s a hint. If you’re worried about your grocery bill, don’t buy yourself a pair of sunglasses from the supermarket.
Another thing that I love about Beau is when I send him to the store with a list. All by himself. Mind you, every week I go to the grocery store. I make a list and I find everything on the list. I pay my bill and I load up the car and drive home and unload the car.
I put all of the groceries away. Except for the food I’m going to prepare that very moment for dinner. But I don’t do this all on my own. I have four kids in tow.
Now when Beau goes to the store with my list, I go and sit next to my phone and just wait for it to ring. He calls a minimum of 3 times. Ring. Ring. Hello? Your list says you want flour tortillas, but there are four different brands of them. Which one do you want? Why don’t you just go ahead and pick the prettiest ones. Or the cheapest ones? Or the Idon’tgiveash!twhichonesyoupick ones? Buh-bye.
Ring. Ring. Your list says frozen turkey burgers. But they don’t have any here. Really? No turkey burgers? That store is fresh out of frozen turkey burgers? For the first time in history of frozen turkey burgers. Here’s a thought. Did you check the frozen food aisle? Because the frozen meats are kept separate from the fresh meats. I know it’s hard, honey. But you can do it. I know you can. Click.
Ring. Ring. Your list says ketchup. But they don’t have any. Hmmm. Yes that is a tough one. Did you ask anyone? Because the people that work there are really, really nice. Especially to men who are clearly lost. Just find someone who works there, they usually have a name tag and wear a white shirt. Find them and ask them where they are hiding that big bad ketchup nowadays. Those sneaky sons-a-bitches. I’m turning my phone off now. Click.
It frightens me to think of what it would be like if this was the 90’s and we didn’t have cell phones. Would I have to load his pockets with quarters so he could run outside and call me with each and every question he had? Or would he just never make it home alive? No wonder my mother died so young.
One time I drew a picture of the inside of the supermarket and labeled the aisles. I drew out where he could find each and every item on my list. I only got two phone calls that day.
The main reason I hope to be reincarnated as a dad is because of the way the children abuse the word mom. I understand mom is a really easy word to say. But guess what? So is dad.
And I don’t know about other people’s kids, but all of my kids’ first words were dad. Not mom. Dad. But now it’s as if they have forgotten how to say the word dad altogether.
This is my life.
My kids are a little older now. So I find it remarkable that they will be sitting downstairs with their dad, yet will run all the way up the stairs to tell me something. Yelling mom, mom, mom, mom, all the way.
When they finally reach me they say, s/he just told me to shut up. (Funny that’s what I was just about to tell you). When I say, you ran all the way up the stairs to tell me that? You literally crawled over your father to climb a flight of stairs to tell me that? I’m met with a familiar blank stare.
Breathe. I need to remind myself to breathe. Just breathe.