I had a very important revelation while I was handing over 1/2 of my paycheck to the nice lady at the Target Guest Services counter and it went like this: I work for food. That’s right. That is my sole purpose in my working life.
Oh, you’re right… I do work for the other finer things in life like, say… toiletries, clothing for my kids, dog food, etc. However, my main reason for being is to feed my kids.
For those people having identity crises in their lives, maybe this sort of revelation would be a blessing. No more wondering, “Why am I here?” It would all be clearly spelled out in the form of groceries.
Lately my charges having been eating me out of house and home. They swarm upon groceries like they’ve never seen food them before, they pounce on snacks as if they were prey. A couple of weeks ago I bought two Little Caesar’s pizza kits. One was gone within two days, like it didn’t know what hit it. I hid the other box in the freezer. It was safe for 48 hours.
This past Monday, which coincided with the end of the pay period and therefore a very bleak time in terms of food, I looked in the cupboards and gasped. Every chip, cracker, cereal flake (that wasn’t stale) and piece of bread was gone. There was very little milk and someone had returned the orange juice container to the fridge with less than a glass full left. There was one scoop of ice cream left in the carton and it was crusted in ice crystals. The situation was dire.
Not to worry, there’s always Target. It was the day after the billing cycle ended and I could return joyfully and fill my cart. Oh happy day.
I received my Target 10% off coupon in the mail the other day. Their marketing department thinks they’re being so clever when the accompanying letter says, “You did it! You’ve earned 10% off by shopping at Target!” As if I did something out of the ordinary by ringing up that much money on my credit card. If they only knew…
This desire to eat everything in sight doesn’t translate to my cooking, however. In fact, there are only two dinners that my entire family will willingly eat: pizza and spaghetti. So, I can BUY the food, but I’m not expected to PREPARE it, otherwise there is unhappiness or downright mutiny.
I once saw a cooking show on the Food Network where the chef goes to people’s house and solves their food dilemmas.
On this particular episode, the issue was that no one in the house liked the same things and the mom felt as though she was a short order cook. He pulled out a crock pot and whipped up a roast beef dinner that was supposed to solve all of their culinary problems. I actually laughed out loud at him. “You fool!”, I yelled at the tv. “Like that would solve my cooking problems!”
So, my purpose in life does not include food preparation. It’s good to be clear on what the universe is trying to tell you.
I’ll tell my family that they’re on their own after my next shopping trip.