“Do you have a rewards card?” the cashier asks cheerfully. This part is genuine; he’s really spoken. I hand over my card, and we dive into a maze of imagined judgments, courtesy of my overactive mind.
This guy seems new, and I’ve definitely never seen him before. He knows nothing about me, yet I catch him glancing skeptically at some of my choices in the frozen food aisle.
“What’s wrong with my Lean Cuisines?” I think to myself. “Sure, they have salt and preservatives, but they’re just for lunch! Okay, sometimes dinner, but not often. And yes, I realize it’s a tad ironic that Lean Cuisines sit next to ice cream, but I need three different kinds of ice cream. My family enjoys it, not just me! Ugh.”
I hope he notices that my Lean Cuisines and ice creams fit perfectly into my reusable bags. I’m doing my part for the environment, but he doesn’t seem impressed. Instead, I swear I see a flash of disdain in his eyes. Fantastic. I can almost hear his thoughts.
“Listen,” I think, “I see you eyeing those chicken nuggets. But if microwaves hadn’t been invented, maybe our kids wouldn’t be obsessed with them! Do you get home after a long day and whip up a gourmet meal while helping with homework and doing laundry? Because I don’t. And by the way, chicken nuggets are not the only thing my kids eat. Look, I have stew meat here! I’m making beef stroganoff with that, and yes, it may not be the healthiest, but it’s made from real ingredients, not something zapped in a microwave. Plus, I’m pairing it with asparagus. There it is, frozen asparagus! And yes, fresh would be ideal, but at least I’m buying vegetables—green beans and broccoli too. Vegetables!”
Suddenly, I realize I’ve neglected to remove some items from under the cart. I like to do that first, ever since I was once chased out of a store by someone who thought I was stealing. The cashier thanks me as I hold up a 12-pack of diet root beer for him to scan. But I can tell he’s being condescending—it’s so obvious.
“Listen,” I think again, “don’t even think about pursuing acting! I see right through you. And yes, the diet root beer is just for me, not the kids. They mostly drink water, milk, and the occasional Gatorade. And yes, those Kool-Aid Jammers are sugary, but I don’t buy them every time. I ensure my kids drink enough tap water because, frankly, it’s as good for them as bottled water and doesn’t create all that plastic waste.”
What a challenge this guy is! This is exactly why I prefer self-checkout. And now he’s grabbing the cereal. Great.
“All right, sugary cereal, you caught me,” I admit in my head. “But I used to buy Fruity Cheerios, which are good for cholesterol! I stopped because they’re either no longer made or this store doesn’t carry them anymore. Don’t judge me for making a choice when I’m left with limited options!”
One of the Lunchables won’t scan. I despise buying Lunchables, but I have only two this week. Two isn’t so bad, but I bet this guy thinks otherwise. I try to give him a challenging look, as if to say, “Yeah, my kids eat Lunchables. What’s your point?”
He remains stoic, and finally, he’s onto the produce, which I saved for last to avoid crushing it. It’s a good move to redeem myself. “See those grapes?” I want to shout. “They’re not even on sale! I’ll probably pay a fortune for them, but you know what? I’m buying them anyway! Because I love my family! Do you know how long I spent this summer chopping cantaloupe and watermelon? A lot! And there are apples and pears—though I’m not a fan of pears. And spinach, green peppers, carrots, and tomatoes. So there’s fresh food in my house, you judgmental jerk!”
Maybe that was a bit extreme. Is he giving me a funny look? Or could it be the eggs? I mean, come on, eggs are good for you! For a time, they were considered unhealthy, but now they’re back in favor. This is why you shouldn’t judge me in the first place.
“Did you say you weren’t judging me?” he asks, ringing up my total.
“That’ll be $267.85,” he states out loud.
I pay him and manage a cheerful “Have a great day!” as he wishes me well. I’m pretty sure I won the imaginary argument we never had, so I can afford to be kind.
For more insights and tips on home insemination, make sure to check out some of our other blog posts, like those on infertility resources and effective home insemination kits.
In summary, navigating the supermarket can feel like a battleground, especially when we perceive judgment from others about our shopping choices. It’s easy to imagine what others think, but the truth is, we are doing our best, balancing convenience and nutrition for our families.