I moseyed my way through the grocery store after work, picking up a few items and checking for items on sale.
As I entered the cereal aisle, a little girl sitting on the bottom of the cart protested as her mother paused by the Frosted Flakes. “Don’t buy them! Why do you always buy that cereal?”
As I walked by I glanced down at the price tag. “Because it’s on a really good sale,” I said and picked up a couple boxes.
When I glanced back the mother had a box in her cart and the child was asking her to buy other kinds of cereal.
“No,” she said firmly, “I have certain things that I buy at certain stores. And I do not plan to buy any other cereal here.”
I sounded familiar.
Recently, my child said, “Mom I don’t mean to criticize you or anything but you and the youth pastor’s wife sound the same?”
“And what is that?”
“Oh, you know. Buy it on sale and save money.”
“I don’t consider that exactly a criticism. Which would you rather have, one outfit or two for the same amount of money?”
“Same amount of money?”
“Uh-humm.”
“Well, two – if it was the same amount of money.”
“So I shop around and wait for a sale. I get more for my money that way instead of buying ‘right now’ only because I want it right now.”
But then there was the time I invited 30-plus teenagers to come over after church for tacos.
For weeks beforehand, when I saw the sale on tacos, taco seasonings and ground meat, I stocked up for the expected horde.
Tuesday as I shopped I noticed that lettuce was a reasonable 50 cents a head. Because I wanted to ensure freshness, I put off purchasing enough for the party until the weekend.
Saturday we cleaned, arranged places to sit and I sautéed the ground meat to be re-heated with taco seasoning the next day. We double checked the menu, made a last-minute shopping list and headed for the stores.
At the produce bins, I stopped in shock. IN three days, the price of lettuce was tripled.
I knew that severe weather had hit the growing area since Tuesday, but I found it hard to believe it would affect the price of lettuce that quickly.
“I am not paying that much for lettuce,” I muttered. “Pick up some tomatoes. I’ll get the rest of the stuff we were planning on buying here, then let’s go.”
At the next store, the price of lettuce was 10 cents higher than at the first. My child went hysterical with laughter. “Are we going to another store?”
Clenching my teeth, I grabbed a couple heads of lettuce, jammed them into the grocery cart, along with refried beans and stonily proceeded to the checkout. My child, sounding like a hyena, followed me.
I bit my tongue to keep from complaining to the cashier. She had nothing to do with the price. But my ESP was working overtime. The cashier said, “One time I was going to have a Mexican party and the price went up the day I went to buy tomatoes and lettuce.”
“I know the feeling,” I sighed. “My party is tomorrow. I didn’t buy this earlier because I wanted it as fresh as possible.”
We empathized with each other. I paid the higher price because I needed it then. But the next time that kid won’t be laughing at me ’cause I’ll serve hot dogs.