Grocery Store Anxiety

My mom and I were on our way to get our nails done before my wedding and as we were driving along, we were listening to the radio. We weren't talking much, but I didn't particularly find it to be an uncomfortable silence. My mother, however, did not feel the same way. Mom: For the love of God, say something.

Me: Um... sorry?

Mom: Why are you so quiet?

Me: I don't know! We're listening to music! I didn't have anything to say!

Mom: You always have something to say.

Me: Not always.

Mom: Well, the silence is weird.

Me: Alright... what are you going to do after we get our nails done?

Mom: I need to go to the grocery store.

Me: Oh... do you want me to go with you?

Mom: No, I like going by myself.

Me: Oh, thank God. I hate grocery stores.

Mom: ...what?

Me: I hate grocery stores. They give me anxiety.

Mom: How can a grocery store give you anxiety? It's just a grocery store.

Me: I don't know. I get overwhelmed. There are so many options.

Mom: Yeah, but just buy what you want. You don't need to get everything.

Me: Well, yeah, but I don't know what I want. Take bread for example, have you seen how many different types of bread there are? There's whole grain, all grain, 7-grain, whole wheat - what is the difference between whole grain and whole wheat, by the way, and which seven grains are in the bread, are those the seven grains that I want? - and then there's white bread, which I know isn't the one I should get, and then there's organic and all natural and so many different brands, you know? Oh man, and then I go to the produce aisle and I get so afraid of how to tell what's ripe and what stage do you buy certain things, and why is always SO COLD? I hate going through those freezer aisles. It's the worst --

Mom: --OH  MY GOD, STOP TALKING.

Me: YOU ASKED FOR THIS!

Mom: WELL I FORGOT WHO I WAS IN THE CAR WITH, OKAY?

Me: ....

Mom: ...your brain is really terrifying, you know that?

Me: Thanks, Mom.

And then it started to rain, but because we were in my brother's car, I couldn't figure out how to turn on the windshield wipers, so I started talking to the steering wheel and then I realized that the windshield wipers were activated by a lever that operated much like a Bop-It, so I started imitating the Bop-It, but I don't think my mom knows what a Bop-It is, so I can't really say that I helped ease her mind about me.

Needless to say, I did not end up having to go to the grocery store, so I still say the day was a massive success.


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Because Dad Is Here.

My dad surprised me and came to visit last night, so today I am hanging out with him and making sure he doesn't scamper off and assassinate someone, as I'm sure that that's the real reason he's come to town... Anyway, because he's here, I don't exactly have time to sit down and write a real blog post, so I'm going to re-post the one where I introduced him in the first place, seeing as how many of you are new and this post is over a year old. I felt it was time for you all to reacquaint yourselves with the glory that is my father. The frightening, frightening glory... Anyway, without further ado, I bring you....

My Dad the Mafia Man

It's finally time... Meet my dad:

dadgrad

For multiple reasons, my friends and I are convinced that he is the head of the Swedish Mafia (yes, it totally could exist...). I know that when you think of mafia, you usually think of Russians, Italians, or Irishmen, but we live in Ohio's Suburbia... Swedish only makes sense. Of course, one would think that it would make more sense if we lived in Minnesota if we were leading the Swedish Mafia, but I was two when we moved to Ohio and had absolutely no say in that decision, so STOP ARGUING WITH ME.

Anyway, here is the list of reasons why we're convinced that my dad works for the totally real Swedish Mafia:

  • Whenever we ask my dad what he does for a living, this is his response:

 

  • For a really long time, he drove a black Chrysler 300...chrysler300

 

  • ...Until recently, when he decided that this would transport bodies more efficiently:lincolntruck

 

  • He goes to the "grocery store" like... 17 times a day. There's no reason to do that other than as a cover-up, people.
  • He travels A LOT and often without warning. Seriously, conversations with my mother will sometimes go like this:  Me: Where's Dad? Mom: Um... I don't know.... I think he's in Jersey... Or maybe Atlanta. Me: What? Didn't he just get home from Denmark? Mom: Yeah...
  • Whenever things seem like they'll never come together, my dad always says "Hey, don't worry. I'll take care of it." And when we ask "BUT HOW??" he just holds up his hand to silence us. Then he disappears for a few hours, and comes back with the solution. We seriously don't know what happens. Obviously, he's making some sort of a deal with some other guy to get things straightened out. I don't know who's fingers these outings cost him, but I have to find that guy and hug him... or at least give him a really nice hook.
  • He's taken to wearing a matching track suit around the house.
  • All deals with my dad are made over a drink. If it's a serious deal, he'll walk you through the proper procedures of how to seal the deal by taking a shot of Swedish alcohol with one hand while your other hand rests behind your back to keep you from reaching your weapon.
  • Oh, and let's not forget the booming Swedish accent...
  • ...or the 6'6" height and build.

When asking my dad if I could write about him in this way, this was the conversation we had via text:

Me: May I please write a blog post about you being in the mafia? ;) I'll be clear about the fact that it's "not true" so that you don't get targeted. :)

Dad: What mafia?

Me: Exactly ;)

Dad: :)

Well, Now I Just Have Too Much Butter - Or, Why Paying For Food is Stupid.

Good morning, readers! I hope you are all enjoying your day so far.

I'm out of coffee, so I'm starting my day off with a nice cup of hot cocoa - which I am so not hating. If there wasn't the lack of caffeine, I might start my day like this every day... Oh wait, isn't that what a mocha is for? Eh, now it all sounds like too much work.

The other day, Dragon took me grocery shopping, because I had a lot of very generous tippers at the restaurant this week, so I decided I should treat myself to more than just the essentials. The problem is that I really don't go grocery shopping that often. I go to the store when I need to go to the store, but I don't stock up on stuff for long-term feeding. This is why I need Dragon, a grocery-shopping-deal-finding master, to take me. Here is a sample of our conversations:

Me: Oooo, can I get these?

Dragon: What? Are you kidding? Those are like 5 dollars a pound! You should never pay that much.

Me: But I want them...

Dragon: Not at that price you don't.

 

Dragon: Do you want broccoli?

Me: Um... I guess?

Dragon: Well you're a vegetarian, isn't that one of the best things for you?

Me: Um... I guess?

Dragon: Fine. Don't get broccoli.

Me: No, wait! I'll get it!

Dragon: Actually... now that I'm looking at it, none of it looks very good... Don't get broccoli.

Me: Oh, but now I want broccoli...

Dragon: Too bad. Sucks to be a vegetarian in the winter. Hey, look at all that yummy meat!

Me: >:(

 

Me: But I don't need Cheez-Its.

Dragon: Yes you do, you never have snacks, plus these are on sale.

Me: Because they're such a waste of money! You just eat them and then they are gone.

Dragon: Yes.. as with all food...

 

Dragon: [loading groceries in the car] Are you okay?

Me: [staring blankly into the abyss] I just spent so much money on stuff I don't need...

Dragon: No, you need this. It's food.

 

Dragon: [putting groceries away at home] Oh, it looks like we accidentally bought two packs of butter.

Me: Can we return one and get my money back?!

Dragon: What? No. It's butter. You always use butter. Plus, that would only be like... two bucks.

Me: I could do use two dollars...

Dragon: For what?

Me: I DON'T KNOW, NOT BUTTER!

 

And that is the story of how I cannot cope with spending large amounts of money on myself. Although, I will admit that it was really nice to be able to just cook myself dinner last night without having to go anywhere to pick something up... and I can do that again tonight, too! Oh no.. I'm becoming accustomed to this new lifestyle... This could end terribly.