One cannot live on chocolate chip cookies alone. Which is terribly inconvenient. It’s also the reason I’m leaving the apartment today (with Number Four as chaperone) to walk two blocks to the nearest store for supplies. List-making has its benefits when you need to send your people to the store, but there’s nothing quite like being there yourself to exercise your full control freak. There, I’ve said it.
I am — and will remain — indebted to my children for their many trips to the grocery store post-accident. But there are only so many qualifiers you can append to a grocery list before it becomes frustrating for all. Bananas: Green-turning-yellow. But not so green that you can’t peel them. You know, greenish-yellow—just the way I like them … Clementines: Poke around the top of the crate and look for signs of mold. Avoid anything that looks whitish-greenish-bluish. Beware! The baddies lurk at the bottom … Onions: Cooking onions, please. The ones that are small and brown-skinned. Not the great, big ones the size of your head. Don’t buy those … Avocados: Not so hard that you can bowl with them … Yogurt: Plain, 2% or 3%. Anything but that non-fat drek … And so on.
Let’s just say that the older my children become, the fewer instructions they require. The oldest have mastered the art and skill of grocery shopping (label-reading! best buys!) and — god help them — they understand my quirks. And in turn, I make them yummy food when I don’t have to slump over the counter to do it. One of the best indicators of my healing has been my ability to make scones whilst chatting to a friend on the phone this morning. There was no bread in the house for Number Four, so scones it was. Oh, and gluten-free spiced apple zucchini muffins so I could swoop in. Happy days!
I hope the wheels of your Sunday have turned slowly. Accident or not, it’s the perfect speed for me.