This is Where You’ll Find Me Every Thursday

The week after I had Everett, I happened to stop by the grocery store on the way back from dropping the girls off at school.  I didn’t pay attention to what day it was – if I even knew what day it was through the newborn haze that was my life for those first couple weeks – and I didn’t notice how empty the parking lot was when I pulled in.  Instead, I parked my car in the first available spot, grabbed a cart, plopped the carseat in the main basket, and went into the store.  My plan was to rush in and rush out…the way I normally do.

Once inside, I immediately headed towards the aisles with a growing grocery list in my head because it seemed that although I stocked up in the weeks before I delivered, my kids ate absolutely everything in the house while I was in the hospital.  About halfway down the canned goods aisle, an elderly gentleman stopped me to ask how old Everett was.  I answered that he was only a few days old and the man immediately smiled and said “God bless him” as he made the sign of the cross in the air above Everett’s head.  I thought it was strange, but thanked him and continued down the aisle.  A few minutes later, a nice lady noticed the Go-Gurt in my cart, stopped me, and handed me not just a manufacturer’s coupon, but also a store coupon, making my Go-Gurt close to free.  I quickly thanked her and moved on to the pasta aisle, where an older man pointed out that a pasta sauce other than the one I was buying was BOGO that week.  As I put back my sauce and grabbed the stuff that was on sale, we talked about his recently slashed Social Security benefits and how the economy is still in the toilet.

I quickly concluded that this particular grocery store was the friendliest place on Earth, albeit a bit chatty.

It was only when I reached the register and was having yet another conversation about social security (with a different man) that it hit me that it was Thursday.  Thursday is the day that this store’s ad starts.  The day when brand new BOGOs are announced and there are plenty to go around.

Thinking back to the people I had talked to that day, it suddenly all made sense.  They were senior citizens, living on a budget, who had time to stop and chat.  None of that hustle and bustle of the after work crowd that I was used to.  No rushing down aisles.  No randomly grabbing at food regardless of price because you just want to get home.  No long lines at check out.

All in all, it was a pretty great experience.

The following Thursday, I made a conscious effort to make it to the store.  I even checked the store’s ad that was pre-posted on a blog I follow and brought some coupons.  As I rolled my cart down the aisles, I had short conversations about the weather (and other random things of little consequence) with other people.  I answered questions about Everett.  And I probably talked some more about Social Security benefits, although I can’t recall exactly.  Other times, I just enjoyed the quiet of the mostly empty store.  It was pretty fabulous and the perfect dose of social interaction considering I barely wanted to leave the house most of the time.

Thursday after Thursday, I made it to my local grocery store.

Around mid-November I swore off grocery shopping in the evening altogether.  My husband thought I was crazy, but I wanted nothing to do with crazy, rushed shopping where I inevitably forgot something that was absolutely essential.  Thursday mornings just seemed so much more pleasant.  I’ll admit it, I’m pretty much hooked.

So as my maternity leave draws to an end (T minus 10 days!), my Thursday morning shopping trips are way up there on the list of things that I’m going to miss.  Well, that and getting to hang out with this little guy all day long.
Oh, and if you’re wondering how I shop with him taking up nearly 100% of the main basket, it looks something like this:Here’s to one more week of Thursday shopping!