Ah, the weekend. I remember when weekends used to be for sleeping in, going to breakfast, and (if we were feeling especially lazy) an afternoon of NCIS or Band of Brothers marathons.
Weekends are rather different since the little dude came around. Sleeping in? Well, AJ prefers to get up before 6am regardless of the day of the week. Breakfast out? The little dude is allergic to milk and eggs. That leaves virtually no safe options on the breakfast menu, so we stick close to home where he can enjoy his wheat free/gluten free/dairy free/egg free (translation: taste free) Vans Blueberry Waffles with vegan buttery spread and a side of bananas. And there are no marathons of any sort on the tv unless you count the dvr-ed episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba and Jack's Big Music Show that are pulled out as a last resort.
One of the highlights of my weekend now is a solo trip to the grocery store: just me, my list (organized by row starting from the right side of the store), my green bags, and a gas station coffee roaming the aisles of Woodmans. If I make it there early enough I can normally score front row parking and a minimal line at checkout. Both of these things are miracles when it comes to Woodmans.
It sounds silly to relish a trip to the grocery store, but I do. I occasionally find myself having to run to the store during the week (often to restock our supply of bananas) and those trips are always harried, mainly because a certain little dude is not a fan of sitting in the cart, but has also not mastered the art of walking beside said cart. This translates into me trying to steer the cart with one arm while pinning the aforementioned child into the seat with the other arm. Good times.
So yeah. I love grocery shopping.
Freak flag and all that.