What you recognize when you go grocery shopping with your guy

“No way, I'm going alone for a bit. You can stay home comfortably,” he says. “But can't we just go together?” responds my excluded, sad child inside. “Yeah, we can, but then it takes so long.” HA. So that's where the monkey comes out of the sleeve, you son of a bastard.

You should know that I don't let myself be easily thrown off. So I'm going along. And not even ten minutes later, we're bickering in the Jumbo about what the pot will provide that evening. The supermarket with your boy, it's a party. And here's why:

The illusion

The whole idea of ‘doing groceries together’ sounds really nice. Almost romantic. But in reality, you're not together at all. Because you all know: after a minute, you've lost each other, both doing your own thing in a daze, and you'll see each other again somewhere at the checkout. The illusion.

One of the two always forgets ‘the list’

Which immediately situates in friction. “YES, BUT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TAKE IT, RIGHT?!‘

Even worse: not having a list

Do Not. Try. This. At Home. If my love and I don't have a plan, the supermarket is a place where you better not say much. Suddenly, he decides he really wants red cabbage. I don't like that. I want cheese fondue. He doesn't want that. He wants something with green beans. I'm going to puke. I want to make it with curry sauce. He's literally going to puke. mussels Brand issues.

I throw all the A-brands (which are very cleverly placed at eye level) into the cart and he starts whining about the fact that everything I always choose becomes so expensive. But you do understand that I'm leaving that filthy store-brand peanut butter and choosing Calvé, right? Just like Nutella. Or Bugles. Or Magnums. You just don't take the fake versions of some things, okay?

The discussion: who pays?

Remains a thing. If possible, I avoid the situation where someone else ever pays for me. Something with Beyoncé and windblowers and I'm a survivor, strong independent woman and shit. The house rule to fix it? The one who is richest at that moment pays. Fair enough.

Sieve heads.

So we had to buy cat food, toothpaste, and new toilet rolls, but what do we come home with? Food that an average family can eat for a month, whole three-course meals, toast and cheese and Oreo cookies and EVERYTHING except for goddamn what we needed. And then blame each other, huh? Sigh.

But also: the victory.

When we decide not to look left or right. Just throw everything we came for into the cart and also

out of it. YEAH HIGH FIVE! Butt dance. Good job babe, one day we'll learn it. cheap "No way, I'm going alone for a bit. You can stay home comfortably," he says. "But can't we just go together?" responds my excluded sad...

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