I often wonder how I come across to fellow shoppers when I’m stomping around the supermarket in my super comfy dog-walking loafers and a face like thunder?
You cannot escape supermarket shopping, however much you hate doing it. They provide everything we need to keep ourselves alive, although, maybe not the freshly baked doughnuts.
On Mondays, I write a (very) long list of grocery items. Meals for the next seven days that I am confident we will consume without any waste. Dog/cat food, cleaning agents and wine, of course, before announcing on Tuesday that
‘Right! Today I’m going out with my spear to do a big shop.’
making it sound like a battle rallying cry.
Job done, I come home buoyed by the belief we are stocked up for the rest of the week. The reality is that I will revisit the supermarket countless times before the end of the week when I start the whole process again.
Whilst freewheeling my trolley out of the supermarket the other day, I almost knocked over a fellow shopper who was on the way in.
She glowered at me and I don’t blame her… I could have so easily knocked her off her stilettos.
I hadn’t brushed my hair after dog walking in a gale force 7 winds and I had mud on my trousers.
Erring on the wrong side of her fifth decade and made up like a catwalk model, she gave me the once over before turning up her chiseled nose and teetering, slowly, into the store.
And I, really, felt her pain. Struggling to keep upright, she grabbed a herself a trolley just in time before shuffling off to the healthy food section.
I’ve never been one for high heels, but why on earth would you want to wear stilettos to go grocery shopping? Perhaps on Tuesday, I will tart myself up a bit. I will change my clothes after dog walking and wear my new clogs.