Dave and I just got back from Sam's Club. Let me just say, God bless Capitalist America.
We haven't been in almost a year. We braced ourselves for the suburban throngs equipped with our club cards, full bellies, and a list. We're a pretty good relay team once we're in the warehouse. Dave always drives the cart, I work as a scout an aisle ahead or in tight squeezes.
We had to laugh at ourselves today. We got so excited about the great deals. People have been asking us how married life is treating us -- I know that ours will always be a happy marriage when I can spend time with my husband shopping for home essentials and share the same giddy excitement about a finding a deal on 36 rolls of (quilted!) toilet paper.
Toilet paper. We were actually enjoying ourselves over the price of toilet paper. We were beside ourselves when we encountered the shampoo quantities that will outlast your hair supply, a poultry-farm's worth of frozen chicken breasts, and enough Sweet n' Low for oceans of coffee. The high point for me personally was finding my brand of tampons at a price I couldn't pass up, though I did hesitate at the size of the box. I'm pretty sure I'm supplied now for the rest of my child-bearing years.
We also got office supplies, some submarine computer game for Dave, a Harry Potter DVD for me, and countless other dry goods that have shelf-lives that may require us to pack them up when we move into a retirement community.
We didn't have to rationalize the the total price when we headed out into the blazing parking lot, we have experienced no buyer's remorse. And -- making the trip all the more enjoyable -- we didn't have to haul our plunder into the apartment in strangely shaped, poorly packed boxes. Sam's now has bags!
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