You know there's something up with your children when they both decide that it would be more entertaining to go to the grocery store with you than it would be to stay home.
The red flags were flying high.
And my bank account suffered a massive hit.
In fairness to the kids, we hadn't done our usual big bi-weekly grocery shop for about a month.
And I suspect in their me-centered brains, they tagged along to ensure that there were things brought home that they actually wanted AND needed.
Or at least wanted.
Keith was lamenting that I no longer bake the way I used to, and Em's lactose intolerance seems to rule some of the formerly-defined "goodies" we had around the house.
He was right.
Since Em's diagnosis, I've been making certain I buy lactose free stuff.
Poor Pookie.
All he wanted were some Chips Ahoy! and Golden Oreos.
Such a deprived child he is.
Stephen found my stash of coupons on top of the fridge, mined them and came out with all sorts of things he thought we should get.
Almond Milk, soy milk. . .
Em found the $5.00 off coupon for some razor called Intuition.
The razor was $10.00, with the coupon it was $5.00, and everyone was so excited that they conveniently forgot that the end result still worked out to me spending $5.00 I didn't intend to spend.
Plus, I was kind of saving that razor for myself.
Soap, okay a necessity, but Em now thinks that she can slow down aging by using anti-aging soaps.
She's 17.
Luckily there wasn't a bar of Dove's anti aging soap in the store.
And that was what we had a coupon for.
So she had to settle on another Dove soap.
I'm certain she feels this will put a serious cramp in her anti aging campaign.
Stephen was just so happy to be in the grocery store he didn't even bat an eye when I asked Keith to procure us another cart.
And when the final total came out, all he could say was, "How much did we save with the coupons?"
$14.00.
But we spent over $400.00
Maybe reading this will assist in his processing of the information.
That's when I knew that under no circumstances could I ever let so much time pass without doing the big grocery shop.
Picking up the necessities here and there, quick runs to Victory for meat and veg, wasn't worth the pain and agony of a two cart grocery trip.
$400.00+ dollars later we arrived home with Superstore and Bulk Barn goods, enough to keep them satiated and hopefully happy for at least a couple of days.
If I could extreme coupon, and get the adrenaline rush of watching my total disappear, then maybe.
But after watching several episodes of Extreme Couponing and looking at people's "stockpiles" I realized that much of what they have, at least in terms of food, are thing we'd never eat.
Other than the laundry soap and cleaning products, perhaps diapers, everything else is all high sodium, high fat, preserved-to-last-until-the-next-millennium-food.
If that's all you can get with coupons, you can have them, thank you very much.
Most of the morning yesterday was devoted to learning how to use my mother's digital picture frame.
A case of Jerry having a brilliant idea, and me, the technologically challenged one, having to figure out how to use it.
Eventually, I was able to load 151 pictures onto it.
I took it to her.
Turned it on.
She loved it.
We talked about all the pictures, where they were taken, funny things that happened and once she had seen each picture at least once, she told me to take it home.
Take it home with you when you go were her exact words.
Imagine my surprise.
Her fear: it will be broken.
Apparently, just that morning someone had dropped her hearing aid, and now the little tab that is supposed to hold the battery in place no longer holds the battery in place.
Which isn't a problem until she takes the hearing aid out to talk on the phone.
Don't ask.
After much negotiation, we came up with a solution.
We'll hang the frame on the wall.
Behind her beside table.
Where no one can possibly drop it.
Stephen will affix it to the wall with such force that nothing, not even the atom bomb will dislodge it.
And when I have more photos to add, I can just remove the itty bitty memory card and bring it home.
Logically, it should work.
But I have concluded that logic and my family are not the closest of bedfellows.
These negotiations didn't occur until after we had dinner.
More negotiations may have been necessary as concluded when I pulled into the nursing home parking lot and immediately saw my Dad's car.
The last time we were all together, my parents had a bit of a row, so I wasn't certain if I was walking into calm waters or the lion's den.
Or, as is usually the case, a bit of both.
Fortunately, all was fine.
At least on the surface.
Where fine usually exists for my parents, as evidenced from my entire youth.
Dinner was a quiet affair, talking about things that had happened during the week, but definitely not touching on anything that would result in ructions.
And then I noticed my father doing something I had never seen him do before.
Reset the table we used.
I understand how come he's doing this: guests always eat with the resident after the other residents have had their meal and space becomes available.
Meaning that the kitchen staff have to wait for the second sitting as they like to call it, people to finish eating.
He want to help.
I just didn't realize he did this.
When we were kids, and my mother was working, my brother and I were in charge of clearning the table and doing the dishes.
My father ate his meal and retreated to the basement.
Perhaps living on his own has changed him a bit.
Speaking of changes, when I arrived home after the nursing home, I walked through the front door and my senses were immediately greeted with the mouthwatering aromas of beef bourguignon.
Em wasn't home.
Keith wasn't home.
I just walked through the door.
As far as I know neither the dogs or cats have yet to learn to stand on two legs for long periods of time, nor have they sprouted opposable thumbs.
Meaning the only one who could possibly be creating such tantalizing aromas was Stephen.
Stephen of the chocolate chip beans and egg salad with linguine and clams concoctions.
I was a bit nervous, but, the scents were so scintillating that I headed for the kitchen before even taking off my shoes.
(Which landed me in some hot water, let me tell you)
And this is what I saw:
Stephen in my apron.
Looking thrilled as usual that I was taking pictures.
And the pink and green cupboards were my brainchild.
11 years ago.
Don't hold them against me.
They are on the always growing list of things that have to be fixed in this house.
Tell me this doesn't look good!
We bought new potatoes and wild rice during our grocery shop, so both will be available to accompany this feast.
Wild rice for me.
Potatoes for everyone else.
Honestly, I love any meal I don't have to cook.
And that's been quite a few this week, as Stephen is now using cooking as a distraction from proposal writing.
When Mum saw that I had the camera (I almost called it my camera. . .opps. . .) she asked me to take some pictures for her.
In particular of the steriod enhanced peonies someone had brought into the Grove, as she likes to call her place of residence.
Never "home."
I made that mistake only once.
But it is where she is and she asked me to take some pictures to add to her collection.
The steriod peonies.
Obviously from a mature plant.
The view from my mother's window.
Rain and wind from the day's thunderstorms blew the bird feeder right out of the tree.
Stephen will put it back up for her later.
I tried to get some pics of the birds and squirrels who frequent this feeder, but they just weren't co-operating for me.
The nerve.
Tonight we'll return to put up the picture frame, rescue the bird feeder and watch Antiques Roadshow and Creatures.
And tomorrow?
Doctors appointments.
Dentist appointments.
SFL appointments.
And dealing with the check engine light on the Elantra.
Just appeared out of nowhere yesterday.
What fun, what fun. . .
Title Lyric: Busy Day by Eddy Arnold
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