The Nordic Warrior Queen asked me to take her shopping the other day. “I just need a few things,” she said. It wasn’t until we were in the car and safely on our way to Wal-Mart that she showed me her list. Crap. It’s nearing Christmas, of course, so in addition to all the usual weekly items, there were all the gifts and holiday supplies we forgot to buy.
I don’t understand it. This woman prides herself on having all of her Christmas shopping done by Labor Day, but somehow every year it’s the same thing: come five minutes of seven on Christmas Eve, we’re still in the line at Wal-Mart. The store lights are switching off, the cashier is grumbling under her breath about getting home to her kids, and the store manager is standing by the door looking at his watch. It’s embarrassing.
So aside from a sleigh’s worth of Christmas gifts (I’d tell you what we bought, but it’s a secret), she needed stocking stuffers, some boxed candy for the neighbors (just in case they bring us something this year), a jumbo sized bag of gift bows, and more wrapping paper, as we were down to just seven rolls and there was an off chance that two boxes might get the same gift wrapping. And she picked up enough holiday paper plates and matching napkins to serve the entire neighborhood, just in case they all show up for snacks.
After emptying the holiday section, we headed over to housewares. She needed a waterproof dog mat (her little dog is a messy eater), a bottle of chlorine bleach for the laundry, and some felt pads to keep the candle holder thingamajig from scratching the dining room table.
And then there were the things that weren’t even on the list. She needed a “Grandma Bin” to keep toys in, a 40-pack of tea-lite candles, a box of Special-K crackers, a loaf of 17-grain bread, half a dozen Everything bagels, a 3-pack of Chapstick, two boxes of hair dye (not Scully Red), an 8×10 picture frame, new slippers, etc.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not blaming her. Shopping is challenging work. No matter what, you always forget something. And all that wasted time, not only shopping but preparing for the shopping. It drives me crazy. Do you ever wonder how many times in your life you write out the same things, over and over again?
BREAD
MILK
POP
CHEESE
Believe me, when you’re looking down that bright tunnel at the end, hearing faint harp music and seeing your life flash before your eyes, you’ll be thinking about all those lost hours spent writing stupid shopping lists.
That’s why I keep my own list. No pen and paper for me: I hate paper lists. I keep everything on my iPhone with a handy little application (called an “app” for you less technical people) that keeps me completely organized.
After downloading the app, I spent an entire day typing in everything a person might ever need. Since it’s all on the list, all I have to do is uncheck the boxes before we leave (signifying that we need it) and then recheck the boxes as we go down the aisles. When all the boxes are filled in, it’s time to leave (after paying first, of course). Easy.
And technical guy that I am, of course it’s all synchronized between my computer, my iPad, my phone, and my wife’s phone. That way there’s no chance of forgetting anything, ever. Since I hate shopping, I want to get out of there as quickly as possible. It pays to be efficient.
We arrived home three hours later, down $276 and with the back of the truck full to bursting. I carried everything in from the garage while she put it away. What teamwork! To reward myself for a hard day’s shopping, I cracked open a beer, and was headed out to the patio to rest my tired feet when I heard her hollering from the kitchen.
I have to go. I forgot the fucking butter.