My brother called me. "Jane? I need your help."
I need to stop eating out so much, but I must say I'm struggling,
But not because I'm lazy, no.
I have PTSD from Mom's GROCERY SHOPPING
"Don't you remember?" He asked.
"Mom would shop for hours.
But then she'd come back to the car, "I forgot the milk!"
Only to buzz back in for flour.
"Did she even have a grocery list?
Or did she just wing it.
There I was waiting for her, starving in the car,
While she decided between iceberg lettuce and spinach.
"I can't grocery shop," he said.
"Not while I have this anxiety.
Makes me want to hire a servant to do it,
Just like they do in high society."
"Will I be just like Mom?" he worried.
I swear, up until I'm dead.
There's no way I'm going out,
Spending 3 hours just to forget to buy bread
"Then I have a solution," I said.
And you don't even have to be a wizard."
That was three years ago.
And ever since, he has his groceries delivered.
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