I love grocery shopping and I always like to take my time in the supermarket. Domestic goddess, I am certainly not, but at the supermarket you can always fake it. The domestic goddesses are the ones hanging out in the Fresh section, smelling fruits and vegetables. If it were up to me, I would be at the Instant aisle smelling instant noodle packets.
But no, at the supermarket, we are all equal. No one knows how good or bad you are in the kitchen, so I like to take advantage of this clean slate. So umm yeah, I smell everything and pretend to give an approval nod before I put it in my trolley.
I was with Dean earlier at the mango section. I picked one mango up and started smelling it. I looked up to give a thoughtful look like I’m thinking hard about the ripeness of this mango. I put it down and took another one, as if the last one wasn’t good enough for my kitchen. A lady passed by and smiled at me approvingly probably thinking “This woman knows what she wants, she must be a good cook!”. I gave a smile back, “Yes yes I am that domestic goddess.”
When really, I am smelling for no purpose at all.
Dean laughed at me, clearly knowing I’m enjoying every bit of this moment.
“Baby, are you done smelling all the mangoes?”
The nerve. I’m only trying to choose what’s best for his stomach. You can’t rush these things.
“Mmm yes,” as I picked up two other mangoes into the trolley.
“What smell are you looking for?”
“Oh, it’s a skill. You either have it or you don’t. I can’t really explain it.”
I wasn’t lying.
I really can’t explain it.
Because I had no idea.