Early Saturday morn is the only time to grocery shop. I've tried the Sunday morn thing but the store was full of Churchers picking up something to prepare for "brunch". Geeeeeeez, there is breakie and lunch, for if I don't have me breakie, well ummmmm, need I say more.
I pull into the lot and eye MY space right beside the cart return and park leaving a 3' lane. Easier to steer the cart along side to unload. Me mum didn't raise no dummy after all.
The retired couple in their green SUV pull up. Not a white streak on it as most vehicles have this time of year unless you visit Charlies CarWash faithfully. The Mrs. sits with sales sheets in hand. Mr. minds the cat. Yes, the cat. In warmer weather he "allows" it out of the SUV mind you in a harness for a walkie. At one time the furball was placed in a grocery cart and shopped with them. Now it remains outside.
Arriving next is Blondie, screeching her Jeep into a spot. Me thinks she's in health care working the night shift. She wears "those" shoes you know. Ever anxious she stares at the metal curtains not yet drawn open.
Mr. Shred-It pulls in parking his van 2 rows down. He's not fooling anyone. His cart is always laden with the 3 basic food groups, sweets, carbs and meat. Though he is sporting nice new runners so maybe there is hope for him.
Smilie cruises in off the highway. An older gentleman, me thinks a farmer. His two toned blue Plymouth glides silently into the number two spot. We have always passed in the aisles smiling at each other. I do know he loves his garlic. Once when I was squeezing bulbs, he paused, winked and said "that's the right stuff!" with eyes sparkling. I missed him in the Winter but he has returned.
Hockey practice must be over as a parade of minivans driven by mums trying to be everything to everyone but themselves arrive. Have I ever mentioned Minivan Mums are the worstest drivers? They drive those huge and cumbersome machines usually with a cell phone calling home to hubbie to check the pantry saying "we need soup right?". I ponder, give hubbie the list and let him shop for a change while mum sleeps in.
Depending on the time of year and of course the weather, come the cottagers. O those poor things. Magine to spend the summer at a home on a lake, without a worry 'cept did I pick up enough Coolers? Awwwww. Heaven forbide it should be raining, then you have the parents AND the munchkins in tow filling up the cart with munchies of every sort. Arriving at the checkout the parents while unloading, say "huh, where did all this come from?" and the kids smirk with an aww shucks look. Life is tough for the water rats.
Of course I could not not mention the dads. Holding hands with the light of their lives, their daughters, they talk constantly about every wee thing. Meanwhile the son is left to lag behind with his mind on everything but the task at hand. "BRAD! pick up the pace ! We have to be home in an hour!" Poor lad, tis the last thing he want to do on a Saturday morn.
Well, the metal curtains have been withdrawn by kids who don't know which way is up, the weekly provisions are bought and loaded. I ease out of MY space just because of the lane cut thru's and you know who you are and leave for home. Whew, til next week.
P.S. I didn't even mention the bane of all adults, the ankle bumper carts ;)