“Can you hear the dogs?”
I open my eyes from a deep sleep. “I didn’t hear them.”
Dee gets out of bed. I hear him yell at the dogs to go back to sleep. I wonder why I haven’t heard them. Am I going deaf? I really need to phone that specialist.
Dee climbs back into bed and spoons in behind me. “Bloody hell, Dee, you’re cold.”
I fall back into a deep sleep. Scratch, scratch. This time I hear them. Dee is clearly not getting up. I haul up out of bed and stomp through to the laundry. I open the doors. Wagging tails and licking tongues greet me. I open the door to let them outside. It is still dark. I pad through to the pool room sliding door. As I go through I notice JC on the settee still sleeping. He has taken to sleeping there instead of his bed on the weekends. Another anomalie of our son to accept. He says it gives him peace. Who are we to deny him peace?
I open the sliding door and rush back to bed. It is bloody freezing. I check the clock. 6:30am. Shit, really? On a Saturday?
I pull on a jumper and turn on my electric blanket. I crawl into bed, exhausted. Dee snuggles up behind me. He is toasty warm.
Another deep sleep takes over me. My dreams are fitful. I am angry, confused, trying to escape, trying to scream but can’t. You know the type.
Dee wakes up first, as always. “I’m getting up – think I might go shopping early.” Dee does the food shopping now. Since mom died, the hum drum duties have largely fallen to him. I no longer feel guilty about it. He likes doing it. It saves us money. I like him doing it. It saves me having to think and struggle with crowds.
“Do you want to come shopping with me? You did say you wanted to start your diet today in earnest.”
I think about this in my slumbered position, eyes closed. I should go. “Alright, I’ll come with you.” I don’t really want to go, but I know that taking some control over what I put into my body is the only way I am going to seriously lose weight. I need to take responsibility for myself.
“I’ll make you tea. You don’t have to get up now.” Dee is clearly pleased at my decision. I doze some more. My tea arrives, but I don’t drink it straight away. I doze, regretting my decision to agreeing to face the crowds.
Ironically, I have no trouble facing the crowds with Jay and Baby C. I push and cuddle Baby C whilst Jay shops. It isn’t the same as pushing a trolley around trying to jostle for food and then waiting in a massive queue for your food to be tallied up, bringing it home, putting it away. It’s just too much. I sound lazy, but I’m not. I just haven’t been able to face shopping for two years. Before that, I did it all the time. Now I don’t.
Eventually, I drink my luke warm tea and pad into the shower. I try on my new swimming costume and another old one. I don’t like what I see, but it will have to do. Hopefully, I will gain a bit of a tan on the tropical island. Two weeks and we are off. Honestly, I’m not really that excited, but that is okay. I’m sure I’ll love it when I am there.
JC is in his room, in the dark, reading Naruto fan fiction. “Have you had breakfast?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“JC, you have to eat.”
“How about JC makes his own breakfast whilst we are out?” Dee offers.
Yeah, I’ll make my own breakfast.”
“No, you won’t. He won’t. He will read and then not eat.”
“You will eat, won’t you JC.”
“Yes, I’ll make my own breakfast.”
I shake my head. We are in the kitchen, JC’s door is shut. Dee whispers, “Sarah, we have to let him take some responsibility. He is nearly 15. He can do this. We have to trust him.”
I no longer believe in the word trust – of anything or anyone. I shake my head again and walk off. I feel out of control, meaningless.
“JC, I want you to take a photo of your breakfast please. We are giving you trust here and I want proof that trust was well placed.”
“Okay, Dad, I will.”
We head off to the shopping mall. The parking lot is full already and it is only 10am. My anxiety level rises. So many people. Far more than there are during the week. I feel tired, drained, already. We head off for coffee first. It is nice to spend some time with Dee. My favourite part of the day is when he comes home. I love him and I miss him during the day.
We chat for a bit. I am thinking of going to university to do a psychology degree. I don’t want to be a counsellor. I want to do research. In particular I am thinking of becoming a psychological anthropologist. My spiritual quest and lack of any answers that sit right with me means that I am incredibly interested in studying our need for religion, faith and belief. We discuss this. As usual, Dee is as supportive as ever, although I get irritated when he suggests I find someone who does this to find out what it entails. He is an accountant and is as prudent as ever. I’m not. I don’t like prudence. We talk some more and I even laugh. I miss laughing.
We head to the shops. Urgh. I start looking at food I know I should not be having. “Is that allowed on your diet?” Dee asks helpfully.
I’m doing Weight Watchers and no, Lindt chocolate is not allowed. Well, not unless I’m prepared to forgo an entire meal for a little block of chocolate. I put the bar back. I feel like I am parting with a dear friend. Instead of alcohol, I am now addicted to chocolate. I feel a headache coming on and wonder if it is psychosomatic.
I start looking at all the rows of convenience food. If the shop only sold whole food and food that was good for you, it would only take up a quarter of the space. I get overwhelmed at all the packaging of the food and think about the sea creatures that are getting caught up in plastic. God, humans are sometimes full of shit. I think about living in a country that doesn’t waste, but the only ones I can think of are very poor and, being the hypocrite I am, I am now very used to my creature comforts.
“Have you thought about the volunteering we talked about?” Dee asks.
I snap out of my anxiety filled musings. “Hmm? Oh, yes, I did do a search, but it seems there is nothing in our area. I will look more though after our holiday.”
“God, yes, I cannot wait to go. Two weeks today and we will be on Hamilton Island!”
Yep, we will. I get to expose my white whale like body for all to see. Oh, goodie!
We head home. On the whole it wasn’t a bad experience. Dee spent more money than he would have liked because I kept putting stuff in the trolley. This is why the status quo works for us and I am pleased for that.
JC is out when we get home. He has gone for one of his three daily mandatory walks. Whilst we are packing the shopping away, he arrives home. “Here it is,” he announces. He takes his iPod and shoves it into Dee’s face. Peanut butter toast. I was wrong. He did do it. We could trust him after all.
0 thoughts on “Shopping and the Status Quo”
Amazing read. Sarah thanks for sharing I just love you! Xxx