It happened to me yesterday. I wasn’t ready. I had no idea how ‘not ready,’ I was. It doesn’t matter how innocent it is. Or that someone had all the right intentions when it happened. It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t even necessary for it to happen. It happened.
I went to the grocery store after the gym. When I do go grocery shopping, which is becoming less and less in a world of two-midlife-empty-nesters-who-like-to-dine-out-and socialize, I usually go after the gym.
Even though the gap in shopping equalled the bare shelves in the refrigerator, the pantry and the freezer at home, I was not in the mood to re-stock. A few things would tide us over until the weekend when we were scheduled to have breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner with friends on at least four occasions.
And then she appeared.
I was doing the usual dance with the attached carts. You know, where the first cart hugs the second cart so lovingly that you think they have just entered into a romantic relationship of young love so desperate to stay together that nothing you can do will separate them.
You start to act like Mrs. Capulet, who has found her daughter entwined in the arms of Romeo and you are yanking them apart with such gusto that you may fracture an important appendage, but you want them apart regardless of the cost.
I yanketh as hard as I can.
And anon, appears a young maiden who, with the eyes of a doe and the sympathetic voice of an angel, looking at me like I have struggled far too long in life to be suffering in such a way any longer, says: “Oh, do you need help?”
It wasn’t even what she said. Yes, you know the drill: It was the way she said it.
As a caregiver, I have said it a thousand times that way. “Oh you are struggling, let me help you. I am young, and strong, and can fix that up in a jiffy!”
She was helping an old lady.
I saw it in her eyes. I heard it in her voice.
I was stunned.
I wanted to scream: “Hey I’m wearing yoga pants, for God’s sake. I just got off the elliptical machine. I don’t even have gray hair yet!”
No matter. I was receiving the “helping verb.” (Grammarians and Catholic School kids will love that.)
My response to this, after thanking her for showing me the trick to extricating what I like to think of as the male cart from the female cart…(yep, there’s trick!), was to shop like I was a young mom of 30.
I put a huge pack of toilet paper under my cart. I grabbed a slab of brisket that weighed the same as bag of bricks. I went to the new wine and beer section in our grocery store to ‘check the prices,’ like someone who buys liquor as a matter of course for all my fun evenings. I bought $300 worth of groceries for two people who are rarely home and go out every weekend.
The good news is, I don’t have to grocery shop for a month. I know how to separate those fornicating carts by myself, and I may be a bit less condescending when I help others. Ouch, that one really hurt.
“You Just have to Laugh…..”
©Cathy Sikorski 2018
Those carts are shameless, Cathy. But you proved yourself to be a grocery shopping warrior, with nothing to fear, no apologies. My favorite grocery store sport is shopping with a cart that is out of alignment. Young shoppers have been so impressed they stop and ask for my autograph.
Haha…..omg, Molly that is hilarious. I just love these true tales of all my ingenious sisters of midlife!
Great story. I won’t grab a grocery cart or seem them in a lot without thinking of them fornicating. lol Alas, I was similarily enlightened a few years ago.
Hahaha…Maybe some of them are married, who knows! Thanks, Mary!
Love your stories. You make life seem so uncompromising.
Thanks so much, Rich. And thanks for reading and commenting.
I do have gray hair. People have often offered me a seat on the subway, but nobody ever offers to help me disengage one cart from another at my local Foodtown. Am I doing something wrong?
Yes, Kathy you are. You have to be surprised and outraged that anyone would want to help you. Try that!
Yes, it’s a shock to find out that one is officially elderly. Ha! But please tell me you got that precious little kitty out of that pine tree. 😎
Of course, I got the kitty out of the tree! Even arthritis wouldn’t stop me!
Right? Aging… it’s just so weird…. different from inside them out…i love to read you
hahaha….yes, I know you feel as young as I do ! Love you, Sherri!
Well, at least you learned the trick! I still don’t know it. 🙂
I think I’ll make a GIF of it and post it here next week…It will be my Public Service Announcement to us old gals!
I love this one. I try never to look like I need help. But I have the disadvantage of gray hair.
I know, Tina….but apparently gray hair is not the indicator! Damn, I thought I was getting away with my youthful looks! Not fooling anyone, I guess.
I secretly hope I run into this young lady….I hate grocery shopping !!!
Nothing like a good comment, like this one, to get A LOT of shopping done!
Good one Cath!!!
Haha, I’ll see if I can find her and send her your way! I sort of liked the info once I got over the shock! Thanks, Deb.
LOL…I want to know that trick!!!
To be continued…I think I will post some video tricks next week! hahhaha! Thanks for reading and responding, Ginny!
Me thinks thou dost protest too much!
Ooohhhhh, Good one!