My husband and I grocery shopped together for years. We weren’t the happy, hand-holding-while-shopping couple. No. We were more likely to be the couple circling the parking lot forever to find a close spot and having the great debate in Aisle 4 over which cereal to buy. Sometimes he even went as far as to replace items I’d put in the cart with items he thought were better. I’d get home and swear I had bought Italian bread only to find a loaf of fat-free wheat bread. I refer to this as one of the “what is this?” post-shopping moments.
Every trip consisted of my husband wandering off, and I’d spend 20 minutes tracking him down. And he had the nerve to imply that it was I who had wandered off. Ha! I don’t know why we shopped together, but it might have had something to do with the fact that I despise grocery shopping, or any shopping, for that matter. I felt better knowing he was sharing my misery.
Once we had children, our shared shopping ended. It became my responsibility, and one I’d sometimes do anything to escape. I’ve even faked a sudden case of bad ham-itus to stay home. I’m fine once I’m there, and it’s no big deal. But I have a low threshold for some of my fellow shoppers. When they stop in the middle of an aisle for what seems like an eternity, I sometimes imagine popping them in the head with a kiwi. Move it already, people!
My sweet husband sometimes offers to do the shopping. He requests only that I create the shopping list. Sounds like a good plan, right? Wrong! First off, doesn’t he live here, too? Surely, after 10 years of marriage, he knows what we eat, right? I’m not sure what happens when you send your spouse to the grocery store, but I can share what happens when I do. Pickled bologna is what happens! Pickled bologna is how I refer to the first time he bought something that was not on the shopping list. He had never tried bologna in a jar before and never actually ate it after buying it. That unopened jar of stink meat sat in the refrigerator, staring at me, like some sort of science experiment for months before I finally couldn’t take it anymore and tossed it out.
I won’t get into what happens if I have coupons.
My poor husband. He has nothing but the best of intentions, and I am thankful that he sometimes does the shopping. I say this jokingly, but he can’t be trusted with the responsibility of food shopping. Maybe he does this on purpose? It’s his own version of bad ham-itus. The fact is, if the task were left entirely up to him, we’d be in the poorhouse on just his purchases of mega-jars of pickles. You don’t want to ever run out of dill pickles, right?
He’s a brilliant man, and I send him off so he can learn how to do something domestic other than make a good cup of coffee. If something ever happened to me, I wouldn’t want them all to starve. That, and because I want to be treated like the princess that I am.
That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
译文:
婚姻中的冒险：杂货购物
我丈夫和我一起买杂货已经几年了。我们不是那种很开心的手牵手一起购物的夫妻。不是。我们更象那种永远为了找一个离购物点更近的地方而绕停车场转，然后在第四过道上为买那种谷类而争论不休的夫妻。有时，他甚至会为了他认为更好的商品，而千里迢迢把我刚放入手推车的东西摆回原位。我会把面包买回家然后赌咒发誓我买了意大利面包，结果却发现是一块没有脂肪的小麦面包。在购物后，我会把这类情况归为“这是什么？”
每次出去都会出现如下情况，我丈夫走丢了，接着我花费20分钟去找他回来。然后他居然有胆量暗示是我走丢了。哼！我不知道我们为什么一起购物，但这个问题也许与我轻视杂货购物或者说一切购物这一事实多少有点关系。知道他在和我分担我的痛苦，我会觉得好些。
当我们有了孩子，我们分担购物的情况终结了。购物成了我的责任，不过有时我会想尽一切办法逃避。我甚至伪造一起突然的严重的ham-itus，目的就是呆在家里。在那里的时候我很好，这不是什么大事。但是对一些我的购物同伴来说，我的起点太低了。当他们在一排过道的中央停下来，而且没有一点要动的意思的时候，我有时会在脑中想象用几维鸟把他们统统抛出去。动啊，各位！
我亲爱的丈夫有时会提议去购物。他只要求我些购物清单。听起来是很好的计划，对吗？错！马上想到，他不是也住在这里吗？在结婚10年后，他当然知道我们吃什么，不是吗？我不知道当你把你的配偶送到杂货店时会发生什么，但是我可以和你们分享我的经历。腌腊肠就是发生的事！腌腊肠就是我指的他第一次买不在购物清单上的东西。他以前从来没吃过装在罐子里的腊肠并且事实上买会来后从来没吃过。那罐没开过的散发臭味的肉在冰箱里放着，盯着我，有点像科学试验，这样足足有几个月之久，直到我实在受不了它而把它扔了。
如果我有优惠券，我不会陷入所发生的事中。
我可怜的丈夫。他除了好意没别的意思，而且，有时我很感激他去购物。我玩笑着说这些，但是要他担当购物的重任，我不放心。也许他是故意这么做的？这是他对于严重ham-itus自己的版本。事实是，如果这个任务完全交给他，我们会因为他购买大罐腌菜而住在救济院中。你不想永远没有腌莳萝对吗？
他是一个聪明的人，我让他出去，这样他可以学着如何做一些家庭中的事，而不是泡一杯好咖啡。如果有一天我出了什么事，我不希望他们饿死。而且我想被象公主一样对待。
这就是我的故事，并且我一直在坚持。