Kroger Care

It’s been a rough day. Nothing terribly bad happened, I’m just very tired and a little lonely. Little guy seems to have his first cold, and I’m afraid I might be in for a rough night. Our family was going to check out a new church community group tonight, but we decided to stay home so we could keep our germs to ourselves. So add disappointed and bored to tired and lonely.

I decide I need to get out for a bit. But where? I could hit a coffee shop…..or even the Nashville Symphony’s CD release party at The Flying Saucer. No, I know what I need to do.

I need to go Krogering.

Where else can I go in my nursing shirt stained with spit-up and not have anyone give me a second glance? Where else can I get a gallon of ice cream for 2.99? Where else within 10 minutes of my house is open at 10pm?

I set some ground rules for my trip. One, I can treat myself to some fun items. I’m not a big advocate of happiness through spending, but sometimes a tiny luxury can make a big impact on my pysche. Two, I’m not allowed to buy anything we actually need. Baby wipes and milk can wait until tomorrow, otherwise the trip quickly will transform into a chore.

So I get to Kroger, toting my reusable shopping bag, determined to look super-hip (while still in my stained shirt). Unfortunately, there are no shopping baskets to be seen, so I have to drag a giant cart around the store with me. Ugh. Carts are SO not super-hip.

First stop, flowers. I definitely need some flowers. A single sunflower? A giant bouquet of randomness? Ooh, that bouquet is free if I purchase a pound of M&Ms…… I finally decide to go with a pot of daisies. Hopefully they’ll stay perky enough to brighten the rest of my week.

Next, the Halloween section. There’s got to be something here to liven things up a bit. A “supermodel wig” featuring a purple bob! Just about perfect, but Ian might not recognize me. Fishnet stockings….yawn……I really want the pink and black-striped tights, but they only come in children’s sizes. Interesting commentary on the maturity of my fashion sense.

Having struck out in the Halloween section, I check out the toiletries department for bath fizzies and such. I almost buy an eye mask and pajama pants — essential ingredients for relaxation — but decide I would rather find handmade versions on etsy than buy them at Kroger. I’ll try that later this evening.

Time for one of my downfalls, the makeup department. I adore makeup, although I rarely wear very much. I just love the pretty colors and the sparkles and, let’s be honest here, the marketing campaigns. Tonight I look for a solution to my everlasting problem of mascara that gives me raccoon eyes. I currently have water-proof mascara that I practically have to chisel off, and I still have artifically-enhanced dark circles under my eyes at the end of each day. And so I look at the…..the…[can’t bear to say it]….THE FALSE EYELASHES! That’s right. You heard me. I’ve thought about trying false eyelashes in the hopes that I can say goodbye to mascara forever. But I’m not that brave tonight. Moving along.

After a cursory glance at the books and magazines (stopping and staring in amazement at the cover of a romance novel that features a guy holding a baby — somebody really knows how to market to mommies!), I decide to go back to my standby happiness-in-a-box. Or carton, rather. Ice creeeeeeeeeam. Yay.

I check out at the self-scan and just carry all my items out to the car rather than use a plastic bag. It’s only once I’m at my car trying to juggle ice cream and daisies and, um, a chocolate bar that I remember I brought a reusable shopping bag that is still slung over my shoulder, empty.

Yep, I’m a mom. And I’m tired. And my idea of fun is a late night solo trip to Kroger.

But I have brownie moosetracks ice cream, a pot of daisies, a sleeping baby, a handsome husband, and a happy home. I’ll take it.