Need Wine, Must Shop, Will Bribe


I get my weekly shop delivered right to my door, every week, and I bloody love it – every Monday morning between 7 and 9 when that luminous green van pulls up outside my house I jump for joy. Mr Delivery Man you are my HERO.

Why? Because every mama tirelessly trying keep it going until gin o’clock knows the only time you EVER venture into the supermarket mid week, on your own, with young kids, is due to an absolute emergency – namely because:

a) youngest has decided to do a massive dribbly sh*t every other hour possibly due to teething/leap/bug/defiance/amusement/who knows and you’re all outta nappies.

b) you’ve already had one of those weeks in which mummy’s alcohol supply has already been completely depleted (yes Friday nights wine was adiosed on Monday after you rudely served dinner on the yellow plate and the peas were *gasps* TOUCHING the sausages…).

 Of course an emergency impromptu visit to the supermarket with my lot still requires a sh*t load of supplies and devious planning even Frank Underwood would be proud of.

I don’t even bother trying to do the aisles in order – who am I kidding!? Might as well head straight to the sodding toy aisle *sighs* hoping they have recently re-stocked the boxes of £1 tat so I don’t have to fork out £12.50 for some horrific all-singing, all-dancing monster truck I just know is going to be waking me up in the middle of the night for weeks to come (until I ‘gently encourage’ my toddler to play with it in the bath where it FINALLY stops working, the ensuing tears and tantrum totally worth it for my sanity. I know, I’m terrible.)

 Once said toy is selected, which will probably occupy him all of 8 minutes, it’s a race to get round everything Challenge Anneka style (yes, I am that old and no, sadly there is no spandex jumpsuit involved…)

 Inevitably once I’m there I remember half a dozen other things I need (one minor drawback of online food shopping is that unfortunately Mr Delivery Man, my two and a half year old does not agree that Peppa Pig pasta shapes are a suitable substitute for Minions pasta shapes today, try again tomorrow of course and they’ll be all he beeping wants). 

Of course, something on the list will require visiting the dreaded chilled aisles – but it’s ok – I just whip out the hat, gloves, scarf, ear muffs, hot water bottle and fleece blanket already packed in the baby bag because I can’t possibly hear the whines about how freaking cold it is, AGAIN.

 Queue up at the checkout (ignoring the suspicious smell coming from the general direction of grinning bubba), making sure to slide the nine open (empty, eaten) packets of totally non Pinterest-approved snacks to the cashier – avoiding eye contact at all costs. 

 CASHIER (scans said items) “Shall I just take these away for you…?”

 ME (damn!) “Oh, erm, yes please… thanks…” *dies*

 But I quickly recover – YES! We made it!

 High five to myself and just enough time to tell my toddler about the wonderful adventures he will have when he’s walking all the way home because mummy has filled the seat of his buggy with one or two bottles of wine (ok, six).

 

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