Lost in the Supermarket

I don’t know how two people less than 30 pounds each can eat so much, but when it comes to their stomachs my kids’ are black holes. You can throw an endless supply of food down their tiny gullets and they are asking for snacks within 10 minutes. Which is why it seems like we are always at the grocery store. I’m lucky to live within walking distance of two different grocery stores — one overpriced and fancy; another egalitarian and crowded. We hit the latter almost every day. I’m an expert at wheeling the two hungry beasts around in carts or strollers through the narrow aisles; my girls are experts at sweet-talking the person in charge of the samples into extras.

We treat the fancy grocery store like it’s Disneyland: we go rarely, buy only what’s necessary, and act like it’s a great adventure. There, they have kid-size carts the girls can push around, multiple sample stations and give out free balloons. The self-serve sample stations means that, by my math, my girls gobble up almost $5 worth of fresh fruit while they are running around the store kamikazeing their tiny carts. And the best part is that the staff is so kind and polite they act like my kid freaking out when I deny her access to the checkout candy isn’t a big deal. Before I had kids, I did most of my shopping at quaint farmer’s markets; now, thanks to the ravenous appetites of two toddlers, that’s impossible. It’s like following behind two human-size Pac-men. Without the supermarket, we’d be game over.

Listen to “Lost in the Supermarket” from Lullaby Renditions of The Clash