The grocery delivery arrived today while my husband
was at work. Since my work is situated at
a desk in the bay window of our home, anything that happens when he’s away can
be a bit of an annoyance. Some things
like the cat clawing the carpet so she can come into my office and balance on
anything in the room that has a diameter of no more than 2”, these things I’m
fairly adept at tackling.
A grocery delivery is a bit trickier, especially
if there are substitutions because I’m not the cook in our house. Basically I refuse all
substitutions in the spice or herb department and accept substitutions for
everything else. It makes cooking a
little more interesting for him.
Today as I put things mostly where they belonged,
I was struck by how complex a task he has in doing the weekly order. Obviously there’s the whole meal planning
& knowing what goes in the recipes, checking to see what needs
restocked. All of that requires
knowing what fruit we leave to attract flies,
what type Magnums are acceptable, if we’re eating bread this week or
only wraps, what toiletry items everyone in the house uses, who likes mushrooms
and who hates raisins and whether or not we’ve run out of kitty litter. And his job’s not even in the house.
My husband’s an intelligent man. He trained at Trinity and Oxford. But it’s not his mental capacity that I’m
thinking of. It’s his desire to pay
attention to and take care of us. That’s
what the weekly grocery deliver quietly does.
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