Shopping at The Pig. Date night for me and Duke Boy with Queen Elizabeth, my Mom.
Supermarket sweep without the prize-- between Mom’s buggy and Duke Boy’s.
Duke Boy, my tall, handsome preacher who cooks gourmet, which is why he loves me. I appreciate gourmet. He’s buying for the widow’s group lunch, his Mom, and our house.
Check Mom’s buggy. 2 boxes of doughnuts, two pies—lemon and chocolate, a dozen cookies.
Mom’s getting wrinkled on the deli aisle. She’s 87 and counting.
“Mom, you can’t take all that to the house!”
“Donnie (aka Duke Boy) likes pie!”
“He won’t eat that. He likes his own food. I, on the other hand, have your genes…and will eat anything with sugar. Unfortunately, I didn’t get your “no weight gain” gene.”
“Pick one thing from all that Mom. You like doughnuts for breakfast. Get those.”
Run back —10 aisles …help Duke Boy find pickle relish so Mom can make tuna salad with just a little instruction and celery salt. “Everything is better with celery salt.”
Locate energy drink for Duke Boy’s mom. She’s only 83. She sips it while watching the Braves from her recliner.
Back to the Queen. She’s eyeing the turkeys. It’s early November.
“They sell out, you know.”
“Let’s wait. “
“OK.” Sad face.
“Remember we planned the menu and have limited freezer space. “
Check buggy—ONE dozen doughnuts from the deli.
Sprint to Duke Boy. Get frozen chicken breasts…apples… Check out. Use the plastic to pay for three separate orders. “Whose bill gets the bread crumbs?”
The Mart-Up trip way worse. The Queen said tearfully, “I feel like giving up.” Retail therapy time. Need groceries for Duke Boy’s mom and us. Left Queen in cosmetics. She wants to look good when she “gives up.”
Run to other side of Mart-Up for groceries—back to the Queen. Three kinds of anti-wrinkle cream in buggy. Less wrinkles=easy button at Pearly Gates.
Back to The Pig night…vigorously walk to the car with two buggies of groceries.
Wait don’t leave yet. Don’t forget the Queen.
She’s not hard to locate. Same aisle—other side.
“I knew I didn’t have long.”
“Only 52 minutes! “
She tells Duke Boy about the turkey she bought. I nod my head, no, to Duke Boy.
Arrive home, lots of little plastic sacks sorted. Ours, Duke Boy’s Mom, the widows, and the Queen’s stash.
“Here’s your doughnuts, Mom.”
“I didn’t buy those. You wouldn’t let me.”
“Yes, Ma’am. You did.”
Later that night. “I need to know when you are going back to the Mart-Up. I have some cream to take back…”
“Maybe you could just give it to me. I think I’m gonna need it.”