Okay, so last Sunday we made the trek to CostCo to stock up on essentials. We go about every five weeks to buy chicken and fish and, of course, toilet paper, household products, milk, bread, anything that we can use in the next five weeks. That way we only shop weekly for fresh produce or items we cannot find at CostCo.
And the shopping is always fun because I make the list; I take inventory on what’s in the house, and what may, or may not, last the next five weeks. And I do the driving up and back because, well, I’m a control freak and no one, no one, drives better than I do. And, at CostCo, I push the cart; I fill up the cart.
Carlos finds things we can’t live without — like, say, a five-pound block of Bleu Cheese; and he visits the snack ladies, though not, as Anne Marie wondered, because he likes the ladies, but because he likes free stuff.
While wandering down an aisle I noticed this display of hand-woven baskets and mats made by women in Rwanda, and stopped to look. They were beautiful, all colors and patterns, and as I read a brochure I learned that a portion of the money made from the sale goes back to the women of Rwanda for education and medical treatments and the like. To me, it was a win-win; something pretty and functional and a donation to charity.
I picked up one of the mats that could be used as a trivet to set hot dishes on and saw that it was $15; I asked Carlos if he liked it, and he did, but then he found another he liked and suggested we get both. He also saw a basket he wanted and, well, it was $37, and into the cart it went.
At the checkout line the cashier totaled up the bill and it came out much bigger than we normally spend and Carlos, in that high-pitched shriek that he has, said, “Why so much?”
I explained that the basket and mats were roughly seventy dollars and, nearly fainting, he said that was s too much. But, as I reminded him that he has no trouble spending $45 on a block of cheese that would be gone on three weeks and that these mats and basket would last forever, along with a cold compress on the neck, a few loving pats on the back, and some It’ll be okay murmurings, he seemed to settle and we were on our way.
Thankfully the good folks at CostCo didn’t have to call the paramedics to calm him down. Not again. |