Hip Hopping at the Grocery

On Sunday afternoons, I usually head to the grocery store to stock up on yogurt, skim milk and whole grain bread for the week. That is the giant yawn that has become my life here at 50 with children flown from the nest. Shopping these days is not nearly as colorful or tasty as it was back in the day when the cart was piled full with double-stuff oreos, fruit roll ups and Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Until today, though, the most excitement that I had experienced at our local Hannaford was when a daughter who should remain nameless (but linked) was home for a few weeks in between college and the Peace Corps and was bemoaning the lack of social life in her home town. As we pushed our cart into the local grocery store where everybody knows your name, we noticed an older man and a younger man pushing a cart just ahead of us. We did not know these people and more importantly to daughter--the young man was quite handsome. I will admit that we did an admirable job of stalking them that day in the grocery store discerning all sorts of things about their lives from the items that they selected. Daughter and I still talk about that--she'll say, "remember the time that we saw a good looking guy at Hannaford?"

But today, as I mindlessly walked up and down the aisles looking for low unit prices and no transfat, I noticed that my step was a little bouncier, my shoulders were a little straighter, and a smile was on my face. About that time, I realized that music was loudly playing over the PA system. The next thing I knew a youngish looking good old boy on the pickle aisle caught my eye and boogied a bit as he karaokied to Play that Funky Music White Boy. So, a note to all of my male readers in the 20 to 35 age range (I know you are out there) any time that you get an opportunity to dance to Wild Cherry with a 50 year old woman in the aisles of the local grocery store--you really should do it.