Being laid up with The Bronchitis, I've spent a few days in bed. More than a few. I'm on day FIVE and although I have no fever and I'm coughing less, it's like saying that clowns are only a little bit scary. I've gone from coughing 75 times a minute to maybe 10 times an hour. Not baby coughing, either. Not one dainty little throat clearing cough over here, no siree.
I'm still coughing a lung up, in case I wasn't clear. And it's a super!impressive!very intense!cough that can - and does - stop conversation and so, for the safety of all involved -
I'm in bed. It also helps that I'm totally wiped out exhausted.
So I've been watching tv, if by watching tv you mean turning on a program, dozing off within the first two minutes, and then snapping awake with a monster cough ten minutes in. And repeating. Allllll the darned day.
I've seen the beginning of some really stupid TV shows - but I saw one advertised the other day that I thought had some real relevance to my daily life. Called Guy's Grocery Game, It pits a group of celebrities against each other in the grocery store. Being that I currently have no life, I've been busy trying to create my grocery list for my monthly shopping trip this week, and I thought, "What if I had to play the Grocery Game?"
Here are the rules for my version:
- Make a two week meal plan. Choose meals that at least 4 of the 8 people in the family will tolerate, keeping in mind that one has nut and peanut allergies, one is shellfish allergic, two have oral allergies and can't eat certain fresh fruit or veg and your husband is on a no pasta kick. Or, and one kid hates meat of all kind - and won't eat beans or soup.
- Realize that 8 people have 8 different kinds of requests for shampoos/conditioners/body washes/lotions. Contemplate tossing them all a bottle of Dr. Bronner's and being satisfied.
- Add hair holders to your shopping list AGAIN - you've bought them them the last three shopping trips! - and mutter under your breath that Laura Ingalls and her sisters held on to ONE set of hair ribbons for years and years.
- Check the stash of school lunch supplies and wonder how kids could manage to go through the sheer number of semi healthy snack foods you buy - and be thankful you aren't buying real crap for them. And CEREAL! Ten boxes is a LOT of cereal.
- Realize that most of your meals revolve around chicken. Remember that your family has requested to eat less chicken. Look at the menus planned and decide to make that adjustment next month, not now. Plan to plead ignorance. Or stupidity. Whichever is easier.
- Tell your kids you are going to the store. Argue over who is going to go with, and finally settle on taking two who desperately beg to go and pinky promise to only be a help, not a hindrance. Roll your eyes at this statement.
- Grab the coupons you've carefully cut and cross referenced with the three page, detailed shopping list. Swear that, this time, you'll be organized and thrifty and not forget a thing.
- Get to the store. Argue with your kids over who will push the cart. Allow one kid to push. Realize that this means you've agreed to let your heels be attacked for the next two hours. Vow to be sweet and calm and patient about this.
- Lose your temper when the cart hits you in the bum for the third time. Take over the cart pushing responsibility.
- Answer one million, "Can I have's?" with a resounding, repetitive and revolving NO.
- Try to compare products to discover which is the best deal. Pull apart two arguing, bickering children and toss whichever product was in your hand last in the basket.
- At the peanut butter row, realize that the store has discontinued carrying both the preferred soy butter as well as the white chocolate peanut butter. Stand in the aisle and open your Amazon app, and order a six pack of soy butter. Internally apologize for not buying locally, but that kid will only eat that brand and a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.
- Apologize to the lady whose cart your child ran into. Remind your kid that the only one who is supposed to be driving the cart is you. Try to ignore the sorrow of the child who is only trying to helllppp.
- Look over your list, realize you've been in the store two hours, half of your list is unavailable for purchase at this store - and your son stuck a post script on there that he really NEEDS new undershirts - which are on the other side of the store - and you haven't decided which of the gourmet diners you spent the past week planning, will be prepared that evening.
- Argue that yogurt isn't supposed to contain artificial colors, cookies, candy or more sugar than Oreos. Ignore the pleading that begs for yogurt with a floppy eared bunny.
- Grab a frozen pizza, head for the check out, and vow to come back when you are alone. At maybe midnight.
- Check out, and see the abandoned coupons forgotten on the bottom of the cart. It's ok, though, because you've not purchased even half of what's on your list - never mind the items for which you had a coupon. Oh well, there's always next month.
Tell me, what did I forget?