I have an interesting relationship with shopping. To begin with, I tend to do a fair bit of it online, since I find it's easier to find what I need that way. It's also rare that I need a particular item in that exact moment, so I can usually wait a few days for my package to arrive (though there are definitely exceptions to this rule). I tend to shop from home, basically.
Now, that's not to say that I don't ever frequent brick and mortar retail stores. In fact, I've written about an adventure or two that I've had when stepping foot inside of these stores. One of the more interesting ones was a recent one, when the Mild Fiancée (then the Mild Girlfriend) and I swore up and down that the cologne I liked had somehow changed its smell. It all got settled in the end, but it was a pretty amusing way to get to that point.
Lately, though, I've noticed that there's another, implied type of shopping that we end up doing. I call it shopping at home, because it tends to happen when we go to either my parents' or the Mild Fiancée's parents' house. Basically, they will always hand us something on our way out, usually groceries of some sort.
At the end of the day, it's very sweet. It's the sort of thing that parents do when they're trying to look out for their kids. Once a parent always a parent, I suppose. Still, we walk out of the house with groceries or goodies of some sort in hand. For example, I like these aloe vera drinks, and my parents seem to magically have an extra pack whenever we stop by to visit. Of course, they graciously hand us a pack, since they just so happen to have extras. The same basic story plays out when we visit the Mild Fiancée's parents.
It's not like we can complain that they are being too nice, so we tend to smile and be grateful that they're looking out for us. It sure beats the alternative, no?
However, the latest time this happened made the both of us laugh. As it turns out, the Mild Fiancée's parents aren't huge drinkers. They do, however, tend to get wine bottles as gifts. So, they basically stockpile them. Well, the Mild Fiancée and I do drink wine. We're not hardcore about it, but we've been known to sip on a glass here and there.
Rather than try to put it into words, let me just show you what the bottom shelf of our fridge now looks like:
I should also point out that this is only one shelf. There are other spots in our fridge that now have wine in them. Yup, they basically unloaded their collection onto us.
Again, this is not a complaint. I am happy that they are nice enough to try to provide for us in small ways. It's just ... look at that shelf. I carried the bag out to the car when they handed it to us, and it was HEAVY. It took serious effort to lift it into the trunk.
The Mild Fiancée and I laughed all the way home.
Now, that's not to say that I don't ever frequent brick and mortar retail stores. In fact, I've written about an adventure or two that I've had when stepping foot inside of these stores. One of the more interesting ones was a recent one, when the Mild Fiancée (then the Mild Girlfriend) and I swore up and down that the cologne I liked had somehow changed its smell. It all got settled in the end, but it was a pretty amusing way to get to that point.
Lately, though, I've noticed that there's another, implied type of shopping that we end up doing. I call it shopping at home, because it tends to happen when we go to either my parents' or the Mild Fiancée's parents' house. Basically, they will always hand us something on our way out, usually groceries of some sort.
At the end of the day, it's very sweet. It's the sort of thing that parents do when they're trying to look out for their kids. Once a parent always a parent, I suppose. Still, we walk out of the house with groceries or goodies of some sort in hand. For example, I like these aloe vera drinks, and my parents seem to magically have an extra pack whenever we stop by to visit. Of course, they graciously hand us a pack, since they just so happen to have extras. The same basic story plays out when we visit the Mild Fiancée's parents.
It's not like we can complain that they are being too nice, so we tend to smile and be grateful that they're looking out for us. It sure beats the alternative, no?
However, the latest time this happened made the both of us laugh. As it turns out, the Mild Fiancée's parents aren't huge drinkers. They do, however, tend to get wine bottles as gifts. So, they basically stockpile them. Well, the Mild Fiancée and I do drink wine. We're not hardcore about it, but we've been known to sip on a glass here and there.
Rather than try to put it into words, let me just show you what the bottom shelf of our fridge now looks like:
 |
| The types of wines are not important. Just focus on the number of bottles |
Again, this is not a complaint. I am happy that they are nice enough to try to provide for us in small ways. It's just ... look at that shelf. I carried the bag out to the car when they handed it to us, and it was HEAVY. It took serious effort to lift it into the trunk.
The Mild Fiancée and I laughed all the way home.
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