May 14, 2011

The Evolution of Grocery Shopping: A Poem

A long time ago, in a land far away,

I was a newlywed bride.

I worked all day, and I cooked all night;

An amateur chef, I was, bona fide.


I would spend hours, chopping and dicing,

Using my most favorite knife,

All for the love, of the before-he-was-known

As the DadGuy, part of my life.


Then one day, while preparing a dish,

There was a small bout of distress.

Because it turns out, that the bride was with child,

And the kitchen, it did oppress.


For the next couple of years, from O’three to O’seven,

The bride was confined to her bed.

She was not a good baker, not of bread nor of children,

And the DadGuy did all in her stead.


A few more years later, when the baking was finished,

Again in the kitchen began,

A torrid love affair of a vegetable nature,

It was divine, oh yes, it was grand.


Then one fateful day, over a fabulous dinner,

Consisting of 87 ingredients,

The DadGuy announced, “We must move, here and now!”

And I promptly gave my consent.


We moved to a far away land full of trees,

And flowers, and rainfall, and deer,

It was a far cry from the desert wasteland

That for so long was our home and frontier.


The new stores were confusing, and they didn’t hold much,

Of the food I was used to preparing.

The carts didn’t seat four, didn’t even seat two!

It was then and there I started swearing.


“How can they expect me, a mother of four,

To navigate those tiny aisles! 

Just look at this basket! The cart only seats one!”

And on and on I would complain of my trials.


DadGuy volunteered, to take over the task,

Of filling the pantry with food.

He used coupons and price-matched and always had snacks,

And therefore, we concluded,


That he made a much better grocery store runner,

I admit: I do not grocery shop,

Because DadGuy, he is the coupon avenger, and I, well,

I am not. 

- - - - -


This wondrous post (of whom it is sponsored)

by the lov-er-ly Coupon Castle,

has items for upwards of seventy five,

percentages off retail prices.