Husband baulks at buying tampons.

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When my siblings, along with my Mum, used to do the weekly grocery shop, nothing would delight us more than adding random things to the trolley. This made Mum’s experience of unpacking the trolley onto the checkout conveyor belt fraught with horror. 5 large tubes of lube… CHECK! A dozen boxes of “ribbed for her pleasure” condoms CHECK! Incontinence adult nappies CHECK! A tin of Spam CHECK!

She would roll her eyes and apologise to the check out chick and make us take everything back to their rightful isles.

I love seeing what people buy at the supermarket. You can tell a lot about a person from the contents of their trolley. Older people’s contents are the best. These are the generation who keep the moth ball and fish spread industry afloat. And Lux soap flakes, come to think of it.

Being a complete documentary junkie, I have often thought it would be great to make a film where you go into the supermarket at mid-night and interview people who shop at this time. Why are you here? What did you run out of that couldn’t wait? I think it would mainly be very tired fathers picking up nappies.

Last night I realised that we were about to run out of milk, so I grabbed the keys and found my wallet. As I was about to leave, I called out to Mr. Woog and asked if he needed anything from the shops. Without hesitation he answered.

“Panadol, A Turkish Delight and a bottle of Johnny Walker Red. Thanks”

One of these things is not like the other. I thought it was a very strange combination for a Sunday evening but being the good wife I am, I obliged. (Expect the shop did not have Turkish Delights but they did have a box of Favourites which had Turkish Delights so TICK TICK TICK me for problem solving!) The lady behind me at the checkout had a basket full of cat food. We made small talk about emergency cat food runs. Her cat’s food of choice was DINE.

When I got home and handed him all of his medicines, I reminded him of the time that we had a massive fight when I needed him to go to the shops to get me some stuff, and he refused. I would have been about 24, living with Mr. Woog in a tiny one bedroom house in North Sydney, and had gone down with the symptoms that only those who are female will ever understand. Flo was in town. I recall it being a Friday night.

I needed THINGS and I was unable to get them.

Eventually, armed with the twenty buck note I gave him, Mr. Woog presented himself at the counter of the local servo with a box of tampons, a box of pandadol and a family sized block of Top Deck. The man behind the counter surveyed the items, looked Mr. Woog in the eye before offering the following unhelpful quip.

“Jeez mate. You’re in for a beaut weekend….”

Is there a certain item that you are embarrassed to buy?