To Market To Market

When I was a kid I HATED going to the grocery store with my mother. It wasn't her. At least, not until I was a teenager and became hideous. No, she had a difficult job. She was shopping for seven to ten people. She sometimes ended up with three carts full of food. And a trip often meant being send back to aisles we'd already covered for items she had forgotten or didn't know we needed.

And every time she went we ran into someone she knew. "Hello, Jean!" They'd say. And suddenly they were talking about people I didn't know and didn't care about and chatty chatty chatty and the thing is (sorry Mom!) I knew my mother hated it, too. And more than once, after we walked away and I had asked "WHO was THAT?" in a rude way, she would say "I have no idea."

I rarely run into people I know at the grocery store. For one thing, I shop weekday mornings, when many people work. I also shop at a store one town over, because I like it there better. Finally, I just don't know that many people.

Today we came back from visiting Lillian at the beach place she and her sister rented. I was so tired. I was so tired that on the drive home I kept reminding myself that I was awake. But when we got home I still had to throw sandy clothes into the wash and go grocery shopping so that we could eat. So I dragged the boys to our usual grocery store one town over.

And wouldn't you know it, we ran into TWO somebodies. First was the parent of a child in Nate's class. "How are you?" she asked, har hand on her cart. "Fine!" I said, shoving a barefoot Andrew back into the car cart and trying not to react as Nathan spilled Rice Krispies all over the floor. And then... we chatted.

And it was a little nice, just as it was when we later ran into Nick and Nate's old teacher. But I had to wonder, did it have to be on a day when I was falling apart? And the kids were bouncing all over and spilling things? And I forgot to brush my hair? Maybe I dreamed it.