Megs called last night and wondered if I would go to the grocery store with her as ‘backup’, to stand by the cart if she needed to dash off to the bathroom. Reason being she and Faye (and now Kody) have been sick all week with a stomach bug.
I agreed to come of course because I enjoy her company and because Walker women have a notorious history of embarrassingly inconvenient pooplosions. Sorry, TMI.
But fortunately for us last night there were no mishaps and we rather pleasantly and leisurely perused the aisles.
Nearly an hour later we got in line. I started emptying the shopping cart onto the conveyor belt. I tossed the cereal boxes on and then the plums. Meghan appeared a little flustered. So I worked faster. When I threw the Baguette on top of the dish soap, she protested.
Mom, wait. Stop! You aren’t putting these into any kind of order.
I stared at her blankly.
She continued, If you put them on the conveyor belt according to category then it’s easier to bag.
What? Really? Who knew?
So feeling chagrined I started trying to categorize the rest of the groceries when Megs finally suggested I just be the bagger.
I confess to feeling a little ashamed, like there was/is something definitely defective with my brain. I don’t think to organize my grocery cart or my bagging, but mindlessly throw hot dogs next to the pop tarts.
When we left the store I told Meghan, just so you know, I put your disposable diapers on top of the spare ribs. I did it out of spite.
Truth is, I recognize my brain doesn’t fire quite right. Oh, it fires in some places but not in the areas I sometimes wish it would. And I am in absolute awe of someone who can think to organize their coupons and groceries. That’s awesome. Because I see the enormous value in that.
When we got to the car, Megs wanted me to taste some of the cheese we bought. So she started rummaging through the bags trying to find the Babybel cheese wheels. Due to my defective-brain-synapses-grocery-bagging skills she was having trouble. She couldn’t seem to find them. I knew I had bagged them, albeit randomly.
Mom, are you sure you bagged them, I can’t find them. They are just not here.
Yes, they are, keep looking.
I started rummaging too and less than a minute later triumphantly produced the said cheese. It was next to the Jello and Immodium.
We are different. Gloriously and wonderfully different.
from the Children's Songbook then, p 263:
I know you, and you know me.
We are as diff’rent as the sun and the sea.
I know you, and you know me,
And that’s the way it is supposed to be.
Words and music: Patricia Kelsey Graham, b. 1940. © 1989 LDS
Random Post-Script: Janny refuses to shop at Winco because they make you bag your own groceries and because he says the savings are not worth the cost in distress. When pressed about what kind of distress he means, he cites the unbelievable unattractiveness of Winco shoppers. (In the shoppers defense, WinCo does have really bad lighting, it makes everyone look bad). When I point out that his thinking is so unkind and judgmental, he replies. "I know, and that causes me enormous distress. I feel bad that I think that and therefore I can't shop there."