Grocery Store Revelations
I’d been planning to write this soon anyway, but then I saw Kate’s latest post, which fits quite nicely with what I have to say, so now I have to write it.
I was at the grocery store the other night. It was the first time in, well, ages that I was at the store alone, and not under some kind of time constraint, such as “Hubby and the kids are waiting in the car,” or “Buy the one thing Hubby needs to finish dinner and be home in 15 minutes, otherwise dinner will be ruined without it.”
I had a list, but not a big one. Just a little over a handful of items we needed, along with a few basics like “more fruit for the kids.” (My kids, despite their father and I being omnivores with extremely varied palates, basically live on a United Nations of bread products, dairy products, and fruit – we’ve been offering all kinds of foods for over 2 years now, and still, that’s pretty much all they’ll eat.)
So I didn’t have to think too much, and the kids were in bed already so I could take as long as I wanted, and I was even at a 24-hour grocery store, so I didn’t even have to worry about when they were going to close.
So I got to take my time, and really just sort of enjoy going grocery shopping, which has always been one of my favorite household chores. I suppose it’s my Italian heritage – that whole “food is love” thing means that a full grocery cart is a whole lotta love, y’know?
It was wonderful. I took forever in the produce department, wandering around, choosing the best fruits and vegetables I could find. I’ve been on a mad chef’s salad jag, I don’t know what it’s about, but I have been /all/ about it. So I got all kinds of great salad fixings. And I got, of course, fruit for the kids but for a change I made sure to grab enough fruit for me as well, and I even bought some kinds of fruit that I know they can’t eat, like three gorgeous grapefruits.
Once I finally had gotten everything I wanted out of the produce department, I moved on through the rest of the store. It was nice, having time for a change. And I had more mental capacity as well. So even though it wasn’t on the list, I remembered using the last of the Dijon mustard recently, so I bought some more. Actually being present while doing the shopping was pretty damn cool. Surprisingly cool, to be honest.
I actually thought about what I felt like buying, I actually thought about what kinds of foods I might like to eat. And when I caught myself thinking, “I really want to get a fancy chocolate bar, but do I really want to be the fat chick loitering in the candy aisle at midnight?” I squashed that, and reminded myself that I had a cart full of fruits and vegetables, for crying out loud, and anyone who thinks that my being fat means I’m not allowed a bar of fancy chocolate can go fuck themselves.
Then, while in the dairy section, I realized I had the oddest craving: I really wanted to get some soymilk. About 18 months ago I’d gone through a several-month bout of lactose intolerance, during which I’d tried a bunch of soymilks and eventually found a brand I preferred.
So, at this point almost chanting to myself, “Listen to your body, listen to your body, listen to your body,” I bought a half-gallon.
It wasn’t until this morning, though, that I decided to crack it open. And while I was very happily drinking some I realized that, without getting into TMI, for almost a week now I’ve been having digestive issues which I could not figure out the cause of. This morning, while drinking my soymilk and thinking, “God, I didn’t even remember this stuff tasting quite like this, but damn it’s hitting the spot,” it occurred to me: my recent digestive issues are awfully similar to the lactose intolerance I’d experienced last year.
Already I’m feeling a bit better, and am planning to go back to the lactose-free life again for a bit, and see if that deals with the problem. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe it’s not the lactose intolerance again. But if it is?
Well DONE, body. Well done.