Peapods
Here I am once again contemplating the origin of "insomnia" while I look through the pictures of my girls that my husband took today while I was at work. I am almost embarrassed to admit this - but at the same time I know that this is NOT that big of a deal.... Okay - I am admiting it online. (when I swore my husband to secrecy over this.... Sorry Norm) We have our groceries delivered to us. (ducking for boos....)
Okay worse... I start on Monday (yes Monday - shockingly sometimes Sunday, or worse - on Saturday immediately after our delivery) - putting things in my online cart (Peapod)and on Friday I finalize my shopping experience by deleting items I don't need (good bye tostitos, chocolate chip cookies, cheeze it crackers....) and making sure all the essentials are stocked up. On Saturday - between 1100 and 1200 the PeaPod man cometh bearing our groceries neatly packaged and still cold from the refridgerated truck that he came in. Not only are the groceries neatly packed and cold - they are delivered to our kitchen counter. All - stress free on my part (okay last week I broke a nail typing in our order.) SERIOUSLY.... I do not have TIME to shop. My husband - God bless him - will pick up the slack of shopping HOWEVER, lacks the big picture. He will, at times, get five boxes of pasta - but no sauce. Tomatoes, cucumbers, walnuts, cranberries, blue cheese and salad dressing, but no lettuce. You get my drift. I myself - tend to leave a few things behind at the store when I shop - and usually it's the very thing that I intended to purchase that initiated the trip to the store in the beginning. And - as a mommy note - Have you ever tried to do WEEKLY shopping with a percousious 7 year old and a free will 4 year old? Enough said....
We were crusing along with our PeaPod service when today - the effect of our actions - was quite evident on the face of our youngest - Rowan. My husband was working on refinishing the front door of our place and Rowan was scouting (literally scouting) the streets for the "PeaPod" man. Let me remind you - she is FOUR! In a fit of excitement and anticipation she started jumping up and down, curly red hair flailing about - screaming "Daddy, Daddy, the peapod man is here - peapod is here!!!" And low and behold a few blocks (may I re-emphasize - BLOCKS) away was the peapod man. Apparently Rowan has become accustomed that - in the 21st century - living in chicago - one gets groceries by simply dialing up the Peapod man. Apparently we should add a trip to the "grocery store" once a month or so to reorient her.
I only bring this up because a good friend of mine grew up with a maid that always came to clean their house. When she finally got married (and I do not mean FINALLY as in I can't believe she got married, or that it took her an extraordinary amount of time to find mr. Right - which he wasn't - but more that I mean - WHEN she got married...) she had not a clue as to how to clean her house. She relates a story to me where she was sobbing on the phone to her mom that she didn't want to be married - how was she suppose to clean a house - much less a bathroom....
Thinking about my four year old jumping up and down excited about the peapod man - made me fear a future event of Rowan, in the grocery store - finally married, on the cell phone (which will probably be a chip inplanted in her wrist as technology goes) sobbing "mommy - how am I suppose to physically go grocery shopping and then go home and COOK it - where is the peapod man...." Frightening isn't it..... : ) See - you're thinking the same thing I am..... admit it......
Okay worse... I start on Monday (yes Monday - shockingly sometimes Sunday, or worse - on Saturday immediately after our delivery) - putting things in my online cart (Peapod)and on Friday I finalize my shopping experience by deleting items I don't need (good bye tostitos, chocolate chip cookies, cheeze it crackers....) and making sure all the essentials are stocked up. On Saturday - between 1100 and 1200 the PeaPod man cometh bearing our groceries neatly packaged and still cold from the refridgerated truck that he came in. Not only are the groceries neatly packed and cold - they are delivered to our kitchen counter. All - stress free on my part (okay last week I broke a nail typing in our order.) SERIOUSLY.... I do not have TIME to shop. My husband - God bless him - will pick up the slack of shopping HOWEVER, lacks the big picture. He will, at times, get five boxes of pasta - but no sauce. Tomatoes, cucumbers, walnuts, cranberries, blue cheese and salad dressing, but no lettuce. You get my drift. I myself - tend to leave a few things behind at the store when I shop - and usually it's the very thing that I intended to purchase that initiated the trip to the store in the beginning. And - as a mommy note - Have you ever tried to do WEEKLY shopping with a percousious 7 year old and a free will 4 year old? Enough said....
We were crusing along with our PeaPod service when today - the effect of our actions - was quite evident on the face of our youngest - Rowan. My husband was working on refinishing the front door of our place and Rowan was scouting (literally scouting) the streets for the "PeaPod" man. Let me remind you - she is FOUR! In a fit of excitement and anticipation she started jumping up and down, curly red hair flailing about - screaming "Daddy, Daddy, the peapod man is here - peapod is here!!!" And low and behold a few blocks (may I re-emphasize - BLOCKS) away was the peapod man. Apparently Rowan has become accustomed that - in the 21st century - living in chicago - one gets groceries by simply dialing up the Peapod man. Apparently we should add a trip to the "grocery store" once a month or so to reorient her.
I only bring this up because a good friend of mine grew up with a maid that always came to clean their house. When she finally got married (and I do not mean FINALLY as in I can't believe she got married, or that it took her an extraordinary amount of time to find mr. Right - which he wasn't - but more that I mean - WHEN she got married...) she had not a clue as to how to clean her house. She relates a story to me where she was sobbing on the phone to her mom that she didn't want to be married - how was she suppose to clean a house - much less a bathroom....
Thinking about my four year old jumping up and down excited about the peapod man - made me fear a future event of Rowan, in the grocery store - finally married, on the cell phone (which will probably be a chip inplanted in her wrist as technology goes) sobbing "mommy - how am I suppose to physically go grocery shopping and then go home and COOK it - where is the peapod man...." Frightening isn't it..... : ) See - you're thinking the same thing I am..... admit it......
posted by B at 02:54
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home