Lockdown conversations

It's amazing how attractive a trip to the local Sainsbury's becomes when the alternative is these four walls, isn't it?  Husband and I have taken to divvying up trips to the supermarket as a sort of illicit treat, now that it's our only way to get further from the house than the couple of circular miles we cover on dog walks

It's been great having him at home for such an extended period of time, but Husband's more frequent than usual assumption of Lockdown Hunter Gatherer duties has had some adverse effects.  Household snackage has gone up, mainly due to the fact that crisps and dips are being purchased at higher frequency than usual.  The cost of our shopping has increased (see previous note about snackage). The fridge was deemed to be ineffeciently filled, so has been 'reorganised'.  Not emptied out and cleaned, you understand; just reorganised (mainly to make space for beer). There have been suggestions made that the food in the storeage cupboard be itemised on a spreadsheet. (Be my guest, I said.  It hasn't happened yet, for some reason).  And a certain level of executive oversight on the contents of said fridge has been in evidence.

I give you Exhibit #1, m'lud.

Husband, standing in front the fridge, sighs disapprovingly: 'Look at this.'

Me:  'Look at what?'

Husband:  'These grapes.'

I look.  'They seem fine to me.'

He tuts.  'No.  Look there; the best before date.  It was yesterday.'

Me:  'Well, they are in the fridge, so... I'm not that bothered.'

Husband: 'But that's why they are at the front of the shelf - so we could see the date.  So that they could be taken out of the fridge and used.'

Me:  'Oh.  I see.  You're right, of course.  If only there was someone other than me who could open the fridge, check the date and take them out so they could be eaten.'


Reader, we left it there.