Sunday at the big warehouse store

There something wonderful about shopping at the big warehouse store with those exposed tin ceilings and tall, tall shelves crammed with all sorts of cool things that we really don’t need but would love to have…like that beautiful loveseat or those scrumptious, easy-on-the-tastebuds Super Pretzels.

I warn you, stay away from this monument to gluttony on Sunday, the day the crowds of consumers converge on the warehouse store, if you can’t handle the hordes of germy, loud, mouth breathers that enjoy basking in the cold glow of the huge TVs and marveling over the size of the economy-sized packages of briefs and antiperspirant.

I prefer to enjoy this store early in the morning and do my best to get there during the business-member-only hour that my extra five dollars a year membership allows me, but today I blundered in at the height of the craziness–1 p.m. on a warmish winter day.

It’s not a smart choice for a couple of people like T and I who get a little crazy in crowds. We did our best. Our best means we powered through the aisles, maneuvering around the mouth breathers and grabbing whatever shiny thing looked most enticing until our cart filled up.

We now are the proud owners of 35 cups of applesauce, 15 cups of sugar-free pudding and and 50 packets of instant oatmeal, among other things. There’s also a 6-pound bag of frozen chicken breasts and a huge box of those Super Pretzels.

I’m too ashamed to mention the rest, although I will admit that my dearest half did succumb to the lure of the super-sized package of antiperspirant.

I’ve now signed away my firstborn to the store, but I figure I’m pretty safe since J’s not really my firstborn, and I’m not likely to actually have a firstborn due to my inability to actually give birth. For once, I can thank my lucky stars for infertility.