I am participating in my ninth Slice of Life Story Challenge run by the team behind the Two Writing Teachers website. We are challenged to write a blog post a day throughout the month of March.
It started a year ago, shortly after the pandemic officially locked us down. My husband, the main grocery shopper in the family, began hoarding items necessary to survive this event. I cannot continue without clarifying that he is one of the calmest people I know, so please banish any images you have in your mind at this moment of rabid shoppers scooping up armfuls of Clorox wipes and hand sanitizer. No, his hoarding was fair, methodical, not-too-extreme. Just the one extra pack of toilet paper on a shopping trip. Researching bulk sites for hand gel and "regular" disposable masks (no infringing on medical personnel needs here), three or four items coming in at a time. Lysol spray, when he could find it.
Then it started extending to groceries, in case we were ever truly locked down, unable to go to the store. An extra box of his favorite cereal, a few cans of soup. Bagged nuts. Crackers, rice, his favorite mints. More household items got stockpiled too, like garbage bags and paper towels.
Where was all of this going? To be honest, I really didn't notice, walking around in my own pandemic-lockdown-induced fog. I vaguely remember him puttering around with those industrial-style storage shelves. Bear in mind that we have a small house, one floor, three bedrooms with doors that are almost always open. I really was that unaware, working from home, what little attention I could muster going towards maintaining some semblance of mental health more than anything else.
Until one work morning, when he ran out of cereal in the kitchen. He announced he was going to get more at HEB as he started walking toward the bedroom end of the house, still in pajamas. (HEB is the BEST grocery store we have in Texas, for those not in the know.)
"Don't you have to go to work today?" I yelled after him.
He didn't reply, returning to the kitchen just moments later with a new box of cereal.
"Where did you get that?" I asked. "From HEB2," he answered.
"HEB2? What are you talking about?"
"The shelves, in Gaby's bedroom," he gestured toward the other end of the house, already pouring his milk into the bowl.
I walked to the bedroom (which was already packed with boxes of my stuff from my last school, not able to move them to the new one yet). Yes, there barely fitting in front of the closet, were the silver industrial storage shelves, five stacked, full of supplies.
HEB2. He is still keeping it stocked, always one step ahead.
We did do some of that. However, my husband stocked up on ice cream. My daughter works at a local ice cream stand. We would visit her every time she worked. He would get one or two sundaes. They would go into the freezer. They lasted him through most of the winter. His priorities are a little skewed.
ReplyDeleteOh, ice cream would make a lovely cheating dinner, though I'm not sure it would be my first choice in winter! Your reply made me giggle.
DeleteHilarious - despite the circumstances surrounding the shelf-stocking. After ensuring we had TP and paper towels, my priority item was coffee. I've just finished the holiday blend... and this line sums up so much for me: "pandemic-lockdown-induced fog." I know it well.
ReplyDeleteOh, the coffee was stockpiled, too. My biggest worry was not having access to half-and-half! And I still feel that fog lurking around the edges of my brain...
DeleteHEB2, so clever! This gave me a chuckle, but the fog is still fresh on my mind. It's interesting to hear how different people prepared for it in the beginning.
ReplyDeleteRight? I just think it's funny that he is continuing to be one step ahead, which did serve us well during Snowmaggedon, too.
DeleteOh well, he will definitely be well prepared and there should be a bit less groceries to buy in the future. I'm glad you could take it all in your stride!!
ReplyDeleteCelia, it seems I am taking everything in stride these days...how else will we make it through this messy, convoluted event? I hope you find a reason to giggle sometimes, too.
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