At the grocery store, I use a red handbasket, no cart.

I look at the cans: SPT GRLC/ONIN TM and SP TOMATO PASTE.
Too big, I think. They will have to do.

Amidst the vegetables, an old woman and I reach for the mushrooms.
"You, please," she grants me first pick,
and I bag one 0.10 lb @ 3.99 /lb BULK MUSHROOMS.
She looks askance at me:
"You need more than that tiny one! Take more, they are good."
Sheepishly, "It is only me. I'm trying for no leftovers."
She mutters away with her bag, swollen with succulent mushrooms.

In the freezer section, I choose a small bag of ITALIAN MTBALLS.

The tomato already has diced GRLC/ONIN, but it needs spicing.
So, I add MC ITALIAN SEAS to the red basket.

In goes ANGEL HAIR PASTA, which she likes and is now my habit.
And, a miniature cylinder of PARMESAN CHEESE.

Near the checkout, I consider the bottles of red wine.

I talk myself out of them all:
You do not have a wine glass.
They are too much money. Make grape juice.
You do not have a corkscrew.

In my heart, I am afraid:
I've only had wine with her.
I might finish the bottle before the pasta is al dente.

"Have a great night," cashier Joel says.

I was at the grocery store and realized that I can buy crunchy peanut butter. So, I’m eating a PB&J with crunchy peanut butter now. Oh man, this is living.

I still need to have creamy peanut butter when the girls come over. The last weekend that I had the girls, Lila tried a crunchy peanut butter sandwich and handed it back to me after a few bites. It hurts my teeth, she said.