Went grocery shopping with the Missus last night. I like shopping with her. Really. I know this will probably marked me "Banned for Life" among the Tough Guys Union (Local 6), but I’ve tried shopping on my own. A week ago, to be exact. Granted it was with a list and coupons from her, but for me it is the Scavenger Hunt of the Damned. Trying to figure out which aisle has what, trying harder to determine if the item you wanted was five aisles back, actually finding the item and then decoding the coupons to see if any of them apply (or expired, meaning you just killed 10 minutes of your life for nada). It takes the mind of an air traffic controller, the packaging skill of a mail clerk (why can’t everything just come in a box?) and the eyes of a handwriting expert to make it look smooth. If I had to do it on a regular basis, I’d live on Cheez Doodles and ginger ale. Maybe some instant oatmeal to make sure everything keeps moving.

Shopping with her is great by comparison. Push the cart. Stop the cart. Load heavy item(s). Push the cart. Stop the cart. Get item(s) from high shelf. On and on, ad nauseum. And she’s a great shopper, to her credit and to my digestive tract. She can spot a sale item from three aisles off. Handles meat like it was plutonium. Handles chicken like it was plutonium mixed with the SARS virus. Keeps a mental list of what she needs, what we already have at home and how much we should get. Knowing just how much we should get is a very tricky thing and, especially with the Missus, it’s important that she knows when to say no to a good deal. My father-in-law is something of a pack rat when it comes to food. If four cans of tuna for $X is a good deal then twelve cans are a better deal, or so his logic goes. It’s only him and my mother-in-law living at home, yet he shops like he’s hosting the Brady Bunch for the next year. I won’t expose you to the horrors of his basement, but suffice it to say that he has enough canned goods to easily repel small arms fire. I'm hoping that set of genes doesn't click on in her one day. Otherwise I'll be building coffee tables out of expired cans of butter beans.

Now, in the politics of the food world, I like Kashi. They make some great cereals, all organic, pesticide free, and proceeds of each sale go to war orphans (well, nothing on the box about proceeds, but the rest is true). They have that environmentally friendly, holistic business outlook that makes you feel good to buy their product. After reading the Kashi box, you can envision whole rainforests being clear cut to bring you the cartoon likeness of a toucan for your breakfast enjoyment. Up yours, Toucan Sam, I’m down with Kashi.

But the taste of this particular Kashi product, oy. Seven Whole Grains and Sesame, proclaims the box. Packing foam and fossilized spitballs if you ask me. The banana I added to the cereal was the only source of flavor. I’m debating eating the box so I can get the most out of my purchase price. If this was their sole product, they’d have closed down within a week of starting. Fortunately, their other products feature both taste and ingredients you’ve met before. Have you had any triticale today? I have, thanks to Kashi’s Factory Floor Sweepings.