Buy one, get one free

I am sitting by the open dock door at CRC, smoking a cigarette and trying not to look at the newspaper. I know what’s inside. It’s the weekly advertisement from the Publix. If I don’t read it, then I cannot know that there is “buy one, get one free” spaghetti. I will not know that if I buy one box of soft pretzels that the other one will fall into my buggy at absolutely no charge to me. I will not be tempted to bring home the Quaker Chewy Granola Bars.

But, sad to say, I look. What is wrong with me? What in the world is wrong with me? Because now I must act.

Let ‘s just put this in perspective. We are, for most of the year, a family of two now. However, I have not only the perfect-for-two sized freezer that happened to come with the ice box, but I also have a full-sized freezer as well. And I feel compelled to fill it. I get this from Bunny. She is a world-class food hoarder, due to an unfortunate first marriage that involved profligate spending on the part of her then spouse.  I once opened up the cabinet in Bunny’s kitchen to find 38 boxes of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese and 42 cans of soup. And she did not even feel the need to apologize about that.

However, I did take notice of the fact that Bunny is never caught up short for any food situation that might arise. And I admire that kind of preparedness. Apparently now I am emulating it.

I would like to blame this on the recession, but it started long before that. Right now I have enough nonperishable food in my pantry and freezer to last through Armageddon. Stopping by for supper and in the mood for short ribs? No problem. Football season somehow arrives suddenly? Pigs in a blanket and bacon-wrapped scallops for all.  Dinner party for 40? I will barely break a sweat. Buy one, get one free.

I know I need to break myself of this addiction. My very good friend, Mary Ann, once embarked upon a project to cook and consume everything she had been squirreling away in her kitchen for who knows how long. And she did it. That girl has discipline. Me, not so much.

By the way, I resisted the urge to buy Wrigley’s Eclipse Gum. I don’t chew gum. Yet.

 

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