The Grocery Ascent

Do you ever go to Wal-Mart and buy 25 items and then for some reason the cashier puts all 25 items in separate bags instead of consolidating your items like you wish he would?

And you’re sitting there thinking to yourself, “Hey I live on the third floor pal. How am I supposed to haul all these bags up three flights of stairs in one trip? Friendly Wal-Mart employee, Jeff I believe you name is, just cram it all in there. Smash my bread, bruise my apples, and even crack some of my eggs if you must, but I just want 2-4 bags to carry up my stairs."

Usually when I get home with all my bags I open my truck and just stare hopelessly into it, thinking, “How in the world am I going to manage this in one trip?” Mentally is just makes me so tired

Well they say necessity is the mother of invention, so very slowly I start putting bags around my elbows, wrapping bags around my neck, and strapping on as many bags as will fit in my hands.

On a good day I can balance a turkey or a gallon of milk between my knees (Thank goodness for Suzanne Sommer’s Thigh Master. People used to laugh at me for doing that in high school. But who is laughing now friends? Who is laughing now?)

So very slowly, but as quickly as possible, I start my ascent up the stairs and already my arms and thighs are just burning.

As I round the bend to go up the final stretch of stairs suddenly my gallon of milk slips, but I clamp it with my shins. "Good save", says I!

By this time the whole neighborhood has come out of their houses to support the "grocery bag ascent" by shouting words of encouragement and doing some good old fashion high school cheers with full on pom-poms (well shredded paper towels) and bull horns (the cardboard roll from the shredded paper towels)

(People thanks for the cheers but seriously, I just need you to grab a couple bags for me and join in the climb.).

So finally, I reach my door with muscles aching, sweat dripping off my nose, and barely able to take one more step. Only to realize, however, that my keys are buried deep in my pocket, which, with all the bags in my chapped hands, might as well be in China for all the effort it is going to take to dig into my pocket and pull them out with 25 bags in hand.

At this point I don’t even care about the safety of my 25 items. I just drop all my bags without caring what will break, pull out my keys, open my door; reach down and just throw all my groceries into my house and slam the door.

I am really considering getting a pack mule or llama just for moments like these, this is getting ridiculous! Not to mention all the glass that I have to pick out of my pickles after I drop the jar. It’s hard.

Is there a better way to do this fellow 3rd floor dwellers? A little help if you please…


j said…
Maybe you could find something to help you on this website:

and don't let the fact that it has a lot of pictures indicating it's for handicapped folks discourage you.
Carrot Jello said…
If you get good at going up stairs on a bike, you could get one of these puppies...
Problem solved.
You're welcome.
Erin said…
And this is what I love so well about you. You are not afraid to admit you used the thigh master! A wooh yeah!

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