"Grocery shopping" sounds so boring -- not the kind of thing I'd want to do on a regular basis. I still think of it as "faire mon Steinberg" -- what many women called grocery shopping back in the 1970s when we shopped at neighborhood Steinberg markets in Montreal.
The last time I was responsible for the task my primary focus making sure I had supplies for nutritious children's meals and school lunches. Bob took over the job sometime in the late nineties and I've always been somewhat critical and decidedly ungrateful.
When asked to contribute to the grocery list, I usually declined, knowing perfectly well that Bob wouldn't even know where to find hummus, goat cheese or farro. Turns out I am really good at targeted buying (a few ingredients for a specific recipe) or wandering through the farmer's market, buying until I my arms are full of delicious fruits and vegetables.
I realized over the first six weeks or so following Bob's surgery that I had to learn to shop for meals rather than simply pick up items that appealed to me. I gained new respect for the job Bob had done all those years.
Now I've got the best of the old and new worlds. Bob has resumed management of the grocery list but I go along and am the "go-fer" in the store, finding coupon items, specials and promotions. I also pick out my own favorite foods and drop them in the cart. I've become an expert at unloading; bagging, not so much -- that's Bob's job.
I now know where everything is in the fridge, a surprise benefit. I'll crack open that classic hummus container when I make lunch today.