We may try Peapod

Grocery shopping has become something of a contact sport around here lately. Don't leave the house without assembling the standard equipment (grocery lists, car keys, wallet); the champion-level accessories (reusable shopping bags, mesh produce bags); and the essential protective equipment (bags of raisins, trail mix, or crackers to be strewn about the store, plastic cell phones and toy cars, a spare diaper and the Sesame Street soundtrack.) It is done inefficiently, and therefore repeatedly, sometimes more than once in a day. It often requires a pep talk to get going, and a surge of adrenaline to get out the door. It is nearly always a show of brute strength (See Side Show Sally lift a gallon of milk and a two year old in one arm!). Coupons? Only on the professional circuit. These elements hang in a delicate balance; any one of them displaced from their cosmically ordained order can upend the whole system. Such as when you realize, having persevered through the rigors of the self-checkout lane to ring up everything from obscure produce to reduced price meat selections, that though you have that spare diaper, your wallet is, ah yes, at home. (See above: inefficient grocery shopping). And in the end, all things in place, the whole system can unravel when you realize, as you open your trunk in the garage to see it empty, that you've left your groceries in the shopping cart back in the parking lot, blithely trundling away toward home to the sounds of Big Bird snorting through the stereo.

In all honesty, I was never a very efficient shopper even before I had a half-pint companion who Will Not Keep Her Butt In The Basket. I'm not good at making lists, and even having them in hand doesn't mean I won't become distracted and forget a... OoH a cheese sample! I prefer to think of myself as an imaginative shopper, able to adapt to the moment to bring home a gourmet selection of unexpected deliciousness. My husband, by comparison, has a surgical strike approach which means that nothing that is not on the list makes it into the cart, an approach I find both astounding and infuriating. But between the two of us, we manage for the most part to keep the refrigerator stocked and the child fed a robust diet of boiled eggs and chocolate milk.