When my mom was getting married to my step-dad, the pastor who married them told her, “Don’t let him get hungry.” I know it sounds archaic, but it’s the best marital advice I’ve ever heard. The reason for this advice was that, biologically speaking, men get hangry much easier than women. Sure, women get hangry too, but it’s a slower build up. Snickers says it best with their catch phrase, “You’re not you when you’re hungry.”
Well, Sweetie and I are trying to lose the 16 years of “baby weight” we’re both carrying. I’m eating like a bird and starving. He’s trippled his daily calories and he’s also starving. He’s doing much better than I am, though, especially last week when my schedule dictated getting McDonalds twice. I’m jealous of his quick loss compared to mine, but I’m also very proud of the changes he’s made toward better health and his resolve to stay away from chocolate cake and, well, goodies in general. I consolidate my overly competitive self with the fact that I eat pretty healthy in general, so it’s really much harder to make good changes. Right? Anyway.
We use Wal-Mart’s grocery pick up because of the convenience and because Timmy will have nothing to do with shopping unless it’s at Cabela’s. Typical boy. Normally I order groceries on Friday for pick-up on Sunday morning. Sunday night rolls around and because of the birthday party, I was a couple days late with the groceries and Sweetie was getting hangry.
He asked to see the grocery “cart” before I checked out to make sure I got a few things that he wanted. That was fine. He’s been taking initiative in making his own lunches and snacks, for which I am eternally grateful because I stink at food, but it means he does need to make sure he has all the ingredients and yada. Little did I realize that when this happened, he was getting hungry. Even when he was getting irritable and snippy for seemingly unimportant things, it still didn’t register because Sunday nights are always a little tense for all of us. Instead, I gave him some space and shoved my mouth full of contraband – aka, leftover cake (because I eat mindlessly when I’m mad).
Well, I went to pick up the groceries today. One of the things I like about the online grocery orders is that I can’t toss a dozen doughnuts in the cart because I’m hungry or fill my entire cart with junk because it’s on sale. My kids don’t stick unexpected things in there and I stick to my list and my budget. Well, the lady drags the dolly to my car and it’s taller than she is and all the crates are full to the brim. My eyes grew three sizes at the sight of it and of the final receipt. It was at this moment when I realized, he was ornery yesterday because he was hungry and unlike me, online ordering is not a deterrent for going rogue.
When all was said and done, I think I counted 15 cans of frozen orange juice and 25 bananas, 18 flavored tuna packs and 6 pounds of grapes – not to mention the million other things that filled all the square feet of my trunk. My pantry and both refrigerators and freezers are full to overflowing now and all of it could’ve been avoided with a snack.
So the moral of my story is to keep your man fed, partially because men get hangry and, more importantly, because impulse shopping is killer on the budget.