Thursdays are one of my favorite days of the week. Wednesday, the flyers for our local stores are sent out but we do not receive them here at our home for some reason. However, on Thursday, our cook at work might bring me my very own supply of flyers for me to take home. On these days, I feel my step is a little quicker, a little lighter on my walk home. The store where we do most of our shopping matches the advertised price for any item. Just knowing the money-saving possibilities make me giddy.
Once inside our door, I get comfortable and proceed to administer a first perusal of all flyers. This is to weed out the stores we do not shop at due to their higher than average prices or the store does not sell groceries. That’s what I focus on; food and toiletries. Then, I go ahead to the second walk through. The purpose for this is to see if the stores offer a sale on any general products we always use/buy and to determine if their sale price is better than the normal price we pay. If so then I write down the store’s name along with the product and price. Once finished with the second phase, I put those flyers we won’t be using in our recycling container and set the others aside, with the list I’ve started. All this takes me a half hour or so.
The last phase happens after sk and I finalize what we will be making for dinner in the next week or two. That’s when I go through the remaining flyers a third time looking for items we will need for the recipes we’ll be using. Once again, the product is placed under the appropriate store’s name along with the price.
See folks, this is called fun.
Why do I do this? I have no idea. Why does it bring me so much joy? Again, I have no idea. I never behaved in such a manner before we moved here to Canada. And it’s not like everyone here does it as well because I don’t know any other human being that does such a crazy thing. And here’s the kicker. . .most of the time we forget to bring the ads and list with us when we do go shopping.
This is an example of a behavior I have that makes sk smile warmly at me with that twinkle in her eye, give me a hug and tells me how cute I am. This action also reminds her of how I find pleasure in the simplest things life offers. This comes from how I was raised. My family was poor, small family farm poor. It seems to me when an individual is raised in this type of atmosphere there are two ways they can turn out as adults. One, they can be obsessed with money in which no amount they have is ever enough. Or two, they become adults that realize there is more to life than money and put their priorities on other things while enjoying what you do have, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem to others.
Sk still marvels at how different our beginnings were. Several weeks ago, someone got sk on the topic of success; what exactly was her definition of success when she was a child? Her childhood definition was an adult that had completed a university degree and was a professional working in their field. She thought this was a wonderful topic of conversation, of course, and so asked me that same question. Little did she know that I immediately remembered my young definition for adult success. I recalled how as a pre-teen, I would lay in my bed thinking what it would be like to be a grown up and know I had “made it” as a successful adult when I became financially secure enough to buy a new appliance if/when the one I had broke down. That was it, that’s all it took for my child brain to determine success in adults. For my family,
this wasn’t the case. If our refrigerator broke down, first we had to determine there was absolutely no chance of repair. Only then would we think about getting a new one but we started saving for a down payment immediately. We would then get a new refrigerator by using a payment plan, we had no other choice. Sk smiled, giggled a little, gave me a hug and told me again how cute I am.
Is there a connection between the two; my delight in scouring the grocery store flyers for sales and the definition of success I projected for adulthood? Maybe not. I might get my kicks from the thought alone of the saving potential those sales offer. Or it could be that this is what I’m down to for entertainment. Sk swears we live in the boondocks. We don’t, it’s a small town but to her, whose lived in a large metropolitan area her entire life, we live out in the middle of nowhere. I’ve tried to curtail my interest in those colorful pages of wonder or to tone down my excitement, at least in public. Butches don’t get excited about things like this, right?
While in the States last December, sk left me alone in the food section of a store while she went off to look at make-up. By the time I snaked my way over to where she was our cart was full, mainly canned goods. Sk took one look at the cart and said, “really, honey?” I smiled and nodded. She grabbed a small can, tomato paste. She held it up to me and proceeded to inform me that we had this stuff back home in Canada. I said, “yes, dear, we do but not for the low price of $.49.” She raised her eyebrows, she was impressed. This grocery shopping was one of the most pleasurable things we did on our trip. All this grocery fun without a flyer!
Apparently, several people here travel to the States to buy their groceries. I ran the idea past sk, making sure to point out we could go to the specialty store friends of ours frequent. I don’t want to lose any lesbian butch points so I’ll just say that we have plans for next weekend to spend some time across the border. The possibilities are endless. . .