30 Mar Reasons You Should Never Take Your Husband To The Supermarket
It’s the Easter holidays.
Last Saturday’s big shop is looking depleted.
“I’m going to nip to Tesco. I need a pack of nappies and some milk”.
“Ok, give me a minute to get dressed and I’ll come”.
Our bank account starts to shudder and weep uncontrollably. Niamh’s eyes light up at the prospect of Captain Slack Wallet coming along for the ride.
Neil coming shopping never ends well financially.
Firstly there’s the standard 45 minute perusal of the car aisle. The one I only ever go to if my car has started to smell so unbearably of trumps that it’s time to take action and buy a magic tree air freshener.
Niamh sees her opportunity and somehow manages to get a half arsed agreement on a purchase of a Shopkin.
You know, those iddy biddy toys that are so small, chances are she will have lost it before we got home. If it was to make it that far, Olaf would have had it in the first 5 minutes as a Scooby snack before his daily scoffing of larger more expensive and sentimental things from the toy box.
I finally get to the nappies. I pick up a pack of £9.50 Pampers. It’s a big pack. It will take up quite a bit of space.
“What are you doing?! It’s 2 for £16!”
“I don’t want two”
“But it’s two for 16! It makes economical sense to buy two! That’s quite a saving! See, this is why I’m the brains of the operation”.
I don’t know if I’m alone in this or not but I just don’t get the pull of the ‘twofer’ deals. I don’t get the buzz of buying more to save in the long run. As we are trying to watch our pennies due to Disneyland taking us up the financial arse, I’d sooner buy what I need now and no more even if it will save a quid or two in the long run.
We repeat this same exchange over barm cakes, croissants and coffee pods. Each time, waiting patiently while the cost per unit is worked out and the saving verified.
Then the hypocrite picks up a £6 dog brush.
I don’t own a £6 hairbrush.
I can’t begin to imagine what amazing tricks this hairbrush must perform to make it so expensive. Is it anti frizz? Can Olaf kiss goodbye to the shame of frizzy fur thanks to his new gift from Daddy?
The seemingly normal brush is now added to the overflowing trolley filled with nappies, popcorn, 3 different types of deodorant, Niamh, an empty Shopkin box and a dog bone amongst other things I had no idea we needed.
Esmé has decided she wants to walk so we approaching the tills with the speed of a drunk slug.
Naturally we have forgotten our bags. I haven’t remembered them a single time since the introduction of the charge.
Cue very ominous Groundhog Day exchange with cashier:
“Ooooh I never remember the bags! Got hundreds at home!”
£68 for a random trolley of the odd jigsaw bits of food that don’t go with anything else.
A week’s budget.
At least I can console myself with some sweet popcorn, McCains Peri Peri oven chips and by brushing my glossy mane with the most expensive dog brush in the world.