We went to Costco today.
Because we are insane.
I hate Costco, and the day before a holiday?
Who does that?
EVERY-FUCKING-BODY.
The store was packed. It was like a nightmare. And guess what else? We didn’t really need anything. I mean, we always need stuff, but there was no Costco emergency.
Napkins and orange juice are not emergencies. Sigh.
But Mark was all joyful. He loves the crowds, the angry bashing of carts as people jockey for position, the samples, the stupidity. The day before a holiday last-minute shopping stupidity. He loves it all. And he loves dragging all of us along with him.
Mark is perhaps mentally ill.
The girls are running around collecting samples, and here are Mark and I in the store . . .
Mark is all cheerful, “Do you want chicken and rice?”
“No.”
“Do you want bagels?”
“No.”
“Do you want that green ravioli stuff?”
“No.”
“Ooooh . . . this stuff is new! Do you want this?”
“No.”
“We need chips. What kind of chips do you want?”
“I do not even care.”
“Do you want refried beans?”
“No.”
“Do you want fish? You like fish.”
“No.”
Mark is all annoyed, “We are going to get home and we are going to have nothing to eat. And then you will be all sorry. Focus . . . do you want yogurt?”
“No.”
“We need loaves of bread.”
“Whatever.”
“Go get some loaves of bread.”
“OK, here I go to get some loaves of bread. No one talks like that, by the way. They just say bread.”
I return, “Here, here are your loaves of bread.”
He taps the bread with a finger, “You got wheat?”
“Yes, is there a problem?”
He reaches for various items on the shelves around us, “No, wheat is good. We could just maybe use some . . . bagels, and some focaccia, and some breadsticks. And some hamburger buns.”
We are bread people, apparently.
“Do you want muffins?”
“No.”
“Do you want soda?”
“No.”
He picks up a box, “This is like that stuff we bought the one time that we didn’t like, but this might be better. Do you want to buy it?”
“No.”
“Do you want cereal?”
“We have cereal. Listen, if you want something, put it in the cart. Stop asking me if I want things. I want nothing. Nothing except to leave this store as quickly as possible.”
“Fine. Oooooh . . . this flavored frozen coffee is good! Do you want to buy some?”
“No.”
“We need fruit. Don’t we need fruit?”
“Not really.”
“Do you want blueberries?”
“I don’t care.”
“Grapes?”
“I don’t care.”
“Do you want oranges?”
“No.”
And on and on and on and fucking on.
We do both sides of the store and then head into dangerous territory. The middle aisle is where Mark is completely capable of convincing himself that a $300.00 patio heater is a reasonable impulse purchase. Many a Costco budget has been blown with a simple 15 minute wander through this middle section of temptation.
Today? There is an enormous display of fireworks. All packaged Costco style . . . each collection of fireworks wrapped with plastic against a five-foot length of cardboard. The girls each pull out a huge package and gaze adoringly at all the explosive fun they could be having if we would only buy these lovely things.
The collections? Range from $40.00 to $150.00, and there is no way we are buying any of them.
I told the girls that we would buy them some fireworks, but I am thinking sparklers and snakes. Maybe $10.00 worth.
There is whining and moaning and the tragic sounds of yet another of my daughters’ dreams being crushed beneath the weight of my cruelty.
I am unmoved.
Kallan drags her display over to me to show me the wonder. Perhaps I am somehow failing to appreciate all that I will be getting for my money. But then she is taken down, hard . . . by a paper cut. She flings aside the fireworks and screams in pain.
As I am comforting Kallan and searching for a band-aid in my purse, I hear Maj trying to work on her daddy while I am distracted. Mark sounds as though he is weakening, but then he is all suddenly firm, “No, Maj. We’re not getting them. Your mom is right. And besides, these fireworks are dangerous.”
Dangerous? That is weird, because that was not the point I was trying to make at all.
But then I see that Mark is all sad and tragic and paper-cut, just like Kallan.
The danger? It is of the stupid-people sort.
My family? They are way lame.
So then Kallan is squeezing her finger to see the blood, “It hurts like my finger is going to come off, Mom! It hurts! Why don’t you have a band-aid in your purse?”
And Mark is touching his injured finger to the palm of his other hand. Repeatedly. Like he is texting a 911 message of emergency into the palm of his hand.
“Babe, what are you doing?”
“I am trying to get the bleeding to stop.”
People? There is no blood. Just a crazy man tapping out morse code messages of insanity into his palm.
Maj is disgusted, “So let me get this straight. We are going to pass up this great deal because two people in our family cannot even hold the packages without getting hurt?”
I put my arm around Maj, “Yup, we’re going to stick to the sparklers and snakes. Anything more dangerous than that? These two idiots are going to lose a hand.”
Maj giggles, “Daddy and Kallan are huge babies, by the way.”
Mark holds his finger out sadly so that we can appreciate the terrible wound.
The wound? It is invisible.
He carefully pushes the cart with his one good hand, “We need band-aids. Let’s buy some band-aids.”
We’re in Costco, so we have to buy 165 band-aids.
Whatever.
“Do you want granola?”
“No.”
“Do you want strawberry lemonade?”
“No.”
“Do you want burritos?”
“No.”
Somehow? When we check out?
$225.00 dollars.
I hate Costco.
It makes me want to scratch my eyeballs right out of my head.
I could wear band-aids over the empty eye sockets so I don’t scare little children.
I have plenty of band-aids.
Heh. I hope Mark and Kallan recover from their wounds. You’re tags made me laugh.
Yes. I am that lame that I am sitting here on Saturday night checking to see if you posted.
I love you more than I can say.
The idea of someone waiting for me to post?
Makes me all happy.
Omg I’m dying lol. I read this out loud to Matt & he thinks you have serious ranting talent. Lmao! Great post!
Ask anyone . . . I have serious ranting talent.
I just had the conversation with the husband earlier today that he was NOT allowed to go crazy and spend $200 at the fireworks store this year. He always puts on a fireworks “show” out in one of the fields and the neighbors actually come with their lawn chairs and kids. And everyone oohs and ahhs over these cheesy store-bought fizzy pops while I stand around grinding my teeth because I’m being eaten alive by the piranha-like swarms of mosquitoes. Not. this. year.
And he will go into his hobby stash of cash, and he will buy the damn things anyway, and the neighbors will come and once again, I’ll end up looking like I’ve got chicken pox from all the skeeters.
OK, guess what? It is later in the evening now and Mark left for a bit to pick up some stuff at the pharmacy.
And then there was a roadside stand selling fireworks . . . Mark is all giddy with the joy of his purchases.
There had better be sparklers and snakes in that bag.
I am afraid to ask how much he spent.
Sigh.
We have a BJ’s Club nearby, and let me tell you, if there’s a hell? It is BJ’s on a weekend afternoon, never mind the day before a huge barbeque weekend.
Me? I bought a minivan. A chapter of my life has closed. Another begins.
C’est la vie.
And apparently? They make the middle tempting specifically for men named Mark. I don’t let him go in there unchaperoned, or he quite literally runs amok.
OK, wait . . .there is a big-box store in your area named BJ’s???
That is delightful! I would laugh all the time!
Also hilarious? Here in Oregon, there is a place called Dick’s Sporting Goods.
You wouldn’t think most dicks would need that much equipment. But apparently? Yes, they do.
And guess what else? WE ALWAYS SHOP AT COSTCO ON THE WEEKEND! Because Mark loves it so. And I can’t let him go there by himself or he would spend thousands of dollars. Today? He was so going to pile a kayak on our cart.
A kayak . . . Mark kills me.
lmao…i feel the same way about costco and all Supercentres (Walmart and grocery stores etc)…i literally have to be dragged into them and they make my skin itch…
but it does make for a hilarious post and better other people than me (especially because I do not have the talent at writing a post this funny)
Exactly . . . Costco makes me itchy.
And all the people there? Are stupid.
And we are there. All stupid and itchy.
Sigh.
This? This is why my wife doesn’t make me go to the store with her more than twice a year or so.
Because I will kill everyone in the building with their stupidity and crushing cow-eyed consumerism. Nobody needs 45 pounds of toilet paper, no matter how awful the food was at that restaurant they went to last night that’s turned their ass into a firehose of hot, steaming death.
Nobody.
Also, I hate puppies and candy and America.
Happy holiday!
You and I?
We understand one another perfectly.
Except I love candy and puppies. You can give me your extras.
Okay, yes, you guys are absolutely crazy for going to Costco on the weekend. If me & hubby went, I’d be the one sounding like Mark and hubby would be begging to go.
Costco is just like Target…it’s impossible to go to either place without dropping at least a hundred bucks!
I hate Costco, but if I didn’t go with Mark?
He would spend all of our money.
And we would all have to live in kayaks.
@Natalie – Yesss! Target is like shopping crack!
I have never been to Costco, but I think anytime a man is along for the shopping? Disaster ensues and giant sums of money disappear. They want to throw everything in the cart. Everything. Sometimes I wish I had Michael along to help me grocery-shop, but I have to remember that he would not be a help at all. At all.
I am a list-shopper. I hate shopping. So I make a list and I buy what’s on the list.
That’s it. And then I go home.
Mark can turn a trip for a 1/2 gallon of ice cream into a 15 bag affair.
He is way annoying and impulsive.
Ahaaahaaahaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!
The conversation you and Mark had? Is the exact conversation my husband and I have when we go to Sam’s (alas, no Costco here. I miss Costco)but I am the Mark and Robert? Is you. All…No. No. I don’t care. What are you going to do with 2000 q-tips? We will never eat 10 pounds of strawberries before they go bad. No, we don’t need the 200 granola bars.
Now, the band-aids we use because now Sara needs a band-aid for a strong wind and anything else more serious.
And even though I know he’s right? I still want to buy that stuff – no real idea why. I’m grateful that he is the voice of reason. Grateful!
One time? About 4 years ago? I asked Mark to buy me some coffee stirrers. I was in charge of hosting an event at the girls’ school, and I needed maybe 100 coffee stirrers.
Mark went to Costco and bought me a bag of about 8 million coffee stirrers. Four years later? We are still working through them.
Not everything is improved when purchased in mass quantities.
This was hysterical. Wanna know something? I don’t go to Costco. I refuse to do it. All my friends rave and rave about the deals. I already have like three other markets that I go to. Do I really need to go another? So far away? Will I really save money when I have to buy such large quantities and the food will probably go bad?
Well, lucky for me, I get to live vicariously through you. Yay!
Guess what? Even if I am getting a great deal? Mass quantities creep me out.
And then I don’t want to eat whatever it is that we now have 300 pounds of . . . there’s just too much of it.
And too much of anything? Ick.
See – that’s the reason I don’t go to Costco anymore… The mega packs of everything. Mind you – 165 bandaids would last me the summer almost, I have a klutz family! ;-)
Have a Happy 4th! Hope you have fun with the sprinklers!
M
I have a klutz family as well, but generally? I refuse to buy them band-aids.
They go through band-aids like water. I keep a few emergency band-aids hidden away, but small injuries of the paper-cut sort?
Not even.
Today? I was weak. So now we have band-aids.
And did you mean sparklers?
And we would all have to live in Kayaks! HAAAAA!!!
And let’s just say, next time you follow my family around in Costco and then write about it, please give proper credit! :)
You rock lady! Like a star!!
The fact that you giggled at the kayaks?
Makes me happy. Because I am all teary with laughter at the thought.
So giggly.
So, we just bought a house in the suburbs.
By just I mean, we have not closed yet and our entire lives are up in the air for the next few weeks.
We need the space, seeing as the 3 of us live in 700 sq. ft. of too much togetherness.
However. Every time my husband mentions Costco? I think we can stay here until the babe, and any siblings he may one day have, go off to college.
Be careful!
Because Costco will fill your lovely new spacious house up with crap?
Faster than you can say Big-Box.
Not even kidding.
So I’m sitting here having a happening Saturday of blogs and blizzard while the hubs and bratchild watch Spongebob.
Also? Your hubs and I could NEVER go to costco together-we’d spend enough so much in one visit that we could have bought a large and lovely home.
Making a note that you should never go shopping with Mark.
Got it.
And why are you not watching SpongeBob? SpongeBob fucking ROCKS!
Striped Sweater? Love that song.
Good thing I’m not married to your husband…because I would have said yes to all his suggestions. Costo makes me buy shit I don’t. EVER. need.
Yes, it is a good thing you are not married to Mark.
It would be just the two of you, building a house of cardboard in the back of Costco.
There’s a LOT of extra cardboard back there.
But you would have all the toilet paper and pineapple? That you would ever need.