Revenge Grocery Shopping

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I am equal parts ashamed and proud of the story I am about to tell.  You should just know that.

I am swamped right now.  It’s just one of those weeks when the sun, moon and stars align and suddenly I am needed in 300 different places at once.  At school it is exam week for my students, which brings it own *special* problems (i.e. we have been reviewing for our exam for the past week, and at least 6 students walked into my classroom today and said, “WHAT????  We have an EXAM today?!?!?”).  Exams are tricky because we have to give them and have all 130 of them graded and submitted online by Friday for report cards.  And since I am a mean teacher, I gave a huge exam and a long essay, so I have a lot of grading to do.  Shot myself in the foot on that one…

At home, things aren’t busy as much as they are chaotic.  We’re still recovering from our trip to Atlanta this weekend when my nephew, Tillman, was baptized (blog post coming soon!), which means no one has any clean socks and I haven’t been able to find Gracie’s toothbrush or my cell phone charger since Sunday.  I’ve also been tutoring in the afternoons, so I haven’t gotten home early one night this week.  On top of that, we had absolutely no food in our house.  None.  Tonight the kids had toast, yogurt and baby carrots for dinner.  Judge not lest ye be judged, my friends.  I just haven’t had a spare minute to get to the grocery store.  Grocery shopping is a process because I meal plan and clip coupons, and I haven’t had a spare night to get all that done.

So, Chris comes home from work tonight right in the middle of me flying around the kitchen trying to scrounge up food for dinner.  And he starts getting pissy.  I can just tell.  He didn’t even have to speak.  My super marital powers told me it was coming.

Wait for it…  Wait for it…

“Why isn’t there any food in the house yet?”


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So, Chris goes on to complain about how we’ve been home for two days and there’s still no food in the house.  He does this all, though, without specifically mentioning me directly, even though we both know that grocery shopping is my chore and so when we need groceries that’s on me.  In his defense, he didn’t really know how stressed I have been this week.  Mostly because I haven’t had time to stop and tell him!  So, I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt that he didn’t realize what kind of terrible mistake he was making in bringing it up.

I told him that I had planned to go tomorrow afternoon because I get out of school a little early on Wednesday, but he complained that we couldn’t go on another day without food.

“Okay,” I said.  “Well, then I’ll go right now.”

“Good!  I think that’s a great idea!”


So, right there in the middle of the chaos that is getting two children fed, bathed and put to bed, I walked away.  I just walked out of the kitchen, leaving him with two kids and an empty pantry.

For the next hour, I sat on the couch and leisurely made my meal plan and grocery list.  Then I got out the three newspapers I’ve been collecting that I haven’t had a chance to clip coupons from, and I slowly perused the newspapers, clipping coupons.  I could hear the kids whining and Chris panicking in the kitchen.  I could hear the dogs barking to go out and then barking to come in again, and I knew Chris wanted to ask me to come help, but he couldn’t because I was technically doing what he asked me to do.  But I sat on that couch and got myself ready for my shopping trip and didn’t offer an ounce of assistance. Then, just before the bath and bedtime rush, I sweetly kissed the kids goodnight and then headed out to grocery shop, leaving Chris at home with the two kids and two dogs. 

I realize that that silent little protest could probably have been timed better.  Perhaps some more open communication would have helped.  Maybe a sharing of feelings or a mature discussion about household responsibilities.  But I don’t know…  When I came home, Chris said he’d had a lot of fun with the kids and the headache I’ve had for three days had finally lifted and I was in a better mood, too.

Moral of the story:  I really have no idea.  It’s just how we roll, yo.

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