OYE, and then I get to do it again.

The Dreaded Chore


With all the chores I have to do
There is one I dread the most
If you hang around and care to read
I will tell you what it is.

GROCERY SHOPPING

Yup, that’s it, grocery shopping.
So many steps lead up to it
It cannot be considered fun
Why not? I will explain.

First, one must work to acquire money
Then inventory should be taken
What we need and need not.
A list of needs is written down.

Then off we go to the market
Most often without the list.
Up and down the aisles we go
Avoiding and running into other shoppers.

We place each wanted item in the carriage.
Depending on mostly our memory.
As we go to the check out counter
We worry over things forgotten.

Each item is taken out of the carriage
And placed on the conveyor belt.
As the cashier rings up each item
Hopefully it is placed in a small plastic bag.

The bags are then put back in the carriage
And the worst time of all has arrived.
The non-caring cashier tells you the total.
Picking yourself off the floor, you pay your dues.

Out to your car you push the loaded expensive carriage.
The bags are placed in your car, as you wonder why so much?
Could it have been the adorable wall decoration?
Perhaps the magizines that are seldom read?

Upon reaching your home, you take each bag out
Carried into your home and then sorted out.
One by one, sometimes two or more
They are placed in their proper place.

Now it is meal preperation time
Needed items taken off their shelves.
You ask yourself as you shake your head
“Didn’t I already do this?”

Meal time arrives, everyone is in a hurry.
They go off here, they go off there.
Where is hubby? Oh! There he is in front of the TV.
He can be counted on to head to his favorite home place.

It is clean up time, I stand alone, deserted.
Putting some left overs in the refrigerator
Some down the kitchen disposal.
I wash, scrub, dry and put away.

Finally, I rest with a hot cup of tea, my quiet time.
Holding my head up with one hand.
The light bulb goes off with a bright flash.
I forgot Calgone, now who’s going to take me away?

Tina Millner