This Month's Topic: Focus on Finance

Grocery Store Ballad

Question: Have you ever gone to the grocery store with the kids? Better question: Will you ever go back to the grocery store with the kids? Here is my poetic interpretation of that feeling:

Grocery Store Ballad

The time has come, the pantry bare.

The fridge is empty and cold.

We venture out, oh yes, we dare.Kroger

I take the kids – so bold.

The three of us to the GROCERY STORE!

We park as close as we can.

We scramble out, the kids and I.

I turn and lock the van.

I’ve packed my purse with lots of treats,

Raisins, crackers, fruit snacks.

Anything that will get us through,

The mid-shopping snack attacks.

Noah sits in the top of the cart,

The middle’s for Sophie’s car seat.

Just where to put the groceries?

Figuring that out is no small feat.

We start at produce, I take my time,

I’m still optimistic yet.

Picking out healthy choices,

I’ll see what I can get.

I spy some strawberries and watermelon,

I bag up some green beans.

Look at me, I want to shout,

The nutritious cooking queen!

Will we eat all that I buy?

Or will much of it go bad?

All I’ll say is that my intent was good,

Because the truth just makes me sad.

Now, alas, I’ve taken way too long,

Perusing the veggies and fruits.

Noah requires some raisins now.

Sleeping Sophie grunts and toots.

We walk to the deli counter,

And this is make or break.

Will there be a line?

As we approach, I shake.

They try to be helpful, try to be nice,

And talk of the cute kids of mine.

All I think is hurry up!

I’m running out of time!

We streak away and race up rows,

Snack attack bag

grabbing things with both my hands.

I check my list and heave a sigh,

I forgot, like, 20 cans!

And now I wonder, is it worth it?

Going back three rows.

I jiggle Sophie, hand Noah some crackers

And jetting back I go.

My heart is pounding, hands are sweating,

As I reach the frozen food aisle.

I feel as though I’m in a race,

And have reached the last few miles.

Dairy is next and here’s the challenge,

The cart’s running out of space.

I’ve utilized every nook and cranny,

And at  breakneck pace.

I put two milks on each side of Noah,

He starts to whine – they’re cold!

Sophie begins to cry behind him.

We’re almost finished, they’re told.

Other items? Just forget it!

We’ll get toothpaste next week.

It’s time to go to checkout.

Cart wheels spin and squeak.

The looks and stares, they matter not,

As my unhappy crew rolls in.

I unload the cart at record speed,

And my head begins to spin.


I’ve almost done it. We pay our bill

And run right out the door.

I come to the car, and throw bags in.

The sweat begins to pour.

The wails are getting louder now,

I buckle both kids in.

Park the cart, jump in my seat,

And in the process whack my shin.

I want to join my kids right then.

I want to cry and moan.

But if I don’t move right there and then,

We may never make it home.

On the way, I ask myself

Will I ever make it back?

How do others do it?

Is there a gene that I may lack?

Clearly not a feast from my house, but a girl can dream, right?

I start to ponder ways to make

The trip a little better.

No matter what I do,

It just doesn’t seem to matter.

I guess the best news I can hear

Is simply this one thought:

When the kids go to sleep tonight

I can eat all the food I bought!

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