I declared sometime during Thanksgiving week, in the middle of the continuous trips to the grocery store for yet more nuts I thought I’d gotten and more butter and those trash bags I forgot to get, that I wanted to be Done with grocery shopping!

Crackers and the bags from grocery shopping on Shalavee.com

Wouldn’t it be fabulous if you could know that this shop was going to be your very last. You would never have to run to the store for the one thing you’d forgotten ever again. To never have to pretend to care about planning out the meals and stocking up the cupboard or getting everyone’s favorite this or that. To just be done the have tos of food hauling.

I don’t mind the cooking too much. That’s creative. But everything else about the meal prep can feel very much like drudgery. Mostly I’m resigned to slog through until it’s over. I try not to think of the decades upon decades I’ll have to continue this task.

Fiona grocery shopping on Shalavee.com

Because don’t even suggest that Mark does it. I sent him to the store for Stove Top and chocolate syrup. He gets two boxes of stuffing which I really didn’t want to eat anyway but he likes it. And he bought a name brand syrup when it needs to be just a store brand. He overspends when he goes. I’d rather have him drive me there, pack my bags, drive me home, hump the bags in, and unpack them with me. And that hasn’t happened in a really long time.

You know of course, I could feel the same way about doing the perpetual laundry. The Sisyphean nature of the never-ending laundry pile is maddening if you thought about it. And once I start the laundry, I have to go all the way. It gets folded right out of the dryer. I am a lousy folder but at least there’s no wrinkly blob shirts being worn.

Yes OK, maybe one day I’ll be able to afford to farm all the Cinderella work out. Hire people. A girl can dream. But for now, I am the best darn Cinderella this household’s got. I’m totally looking forward to little hands getting bigger to help and resigning myself that doing good job at all of this is noble. My family is important enough to me to want that for them. Providing endless opportunities for my indulged children to turn their noses up at a good meal I’ve prepared and wear the sweatshirt with the breakfast peanut butter on it to school.

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  1. Yes indeed Shalagh. I hit grocery 3 times a week What I abhor is the cleaning out of the fridge to accommodate more food. I wonder on a daily basis why is it I can just eat eggs, cheese crackers , bowl of vegetables ? Typically the ‘easy eater’ is the one who cooks for the hot meal crew. For lunch I toss cold cuts ( in plastic still) on table , bread – unopened, bag of chips and tell family to ” have at it”, or they will be hungry. Even Fiona can take out piece of turkey and roll a few Try it sometime, very liberating. By the way, all are capable of putting food away!

    1. I have been letting go a little more here and there. I also happen to have a refrigerator that is on the top and freezer on the bottom so the littles couldn’t go fishing in there as much. She shops for herself plenty from the pantry. Especially right when I’m making dinner! I usually do my shopping when I have either hands free or Fiona so there’s no one to help put away. But one day there will be. Eamon’s got dishwasher, trash, and napkin folding. And when he’s ready to pass those down to Fiona, it’ll be grocery duty for sure. Thank you Melissa for stopping in for my rant. Did you read the ‘Are You a Mourning Cook Too?’ post?
      Merry last days until Christmas!

  2. I am still trying to figure out how two retired folk dirty as much laundry (was, dry, fold or hang. Repeat.) and use as much “stuff” that requires venturing to the grocery store usually twice a week. BUT…retired does allow me the opportunity to truly appreciate the produce department (is there anything lovelier than a well-stocked and designed produce department? One of my true joys!)and search for some obscure thing I’ve been wanting to try. Now…off to start another load o laundry.

    1. Shannon, Afraid it’s an affliction that’s blind to age or gender. I keep telling my son he can re-wear his pajamas!And boy I hear you about the produce department. The one in town isn’t it but there are two down in Easton 20 minutes away. And I sometimes take myself for a special shop there to buy the pretty sexy produce too. Or find a recipe that gives me an excuse to go shopping there.Living that retired life hasn’t made you any less tired huh?

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