Jake picked me up from soccer after he went to the gym tonight. We drove to the North Olmsted strip mall and stopped by the thrift store randomly. I got frames. Then we went to Giant Eagle for grocery shopping. I haven’t been in a large grocery store in months. Frankly, I haven’t seriously grocery shopped since the first year I moved to Cleveland. Recently I eat out a lot, and Jake has been sweet enough to bring me groceries when I need things. We cruised through all the aisles. Fruit and produce, then breads, dairy, frozen aisle, cereals, sparkling waters. We got me Vitamin C. It was a really nice time. I expressed how big the grocery store was to me; it was fun to let myself get excited by all the new flavors and special snacks. Cinnamon scoops and stewed canned tomatoes, Zataar chips, soft drop cookies, keto ice cream. Me and my impulse buys, Jake’s discipline. We sought out ingredients for stuffed peppers, which we had been craving for weeks. Everything was so colorful. The Wheaties cereal had a fun and unique boldface packaging.
We checked out at self-checkout next to each other: him on one side of the corner and me on the order. The scanning sounds were soothing. Then we left and Jake pushed the cart to the car. I grabbed his arm when I saw the big moon: light orange, broad, and clear against the dark night sky. Jake glided on the cart—“that’s called being a manchild”—to his car. We drove out of North Olmsted, snacked on some soft top cookies, and listened to Ben Folds Five on the way home.
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