MOM to MOM
January 11th, 2000
Bulk is Bad
Clever, clever people. They know that a working mother is forced
to pinch her pennies and they'll stop at nothing to get each and every one.
I would like to take a moment, on behalf of working Mom's everywhere, to express heartfelt thanks to the individual
who created the "shop in bulk" grocery experience. In all of the last century, I can't think of any other
invention that eclipses the sheer insanity of The Bulk Place! Where else can you drop $800 on one bottle of Aspirin?
The large items have no place in your home. Last night I opened the door to my refrigerator and was immediately
assaulted by a gigantic pack of "Little Smokies." They tumbled out with malicious intent and narrowly
missed squashing my foot. Instead, the monolithic Bag-O-Weiners glanced off the edge of my shoe, crashing to the
floor with a deafening thud. It only took a moment for the linoleum to start shifting inward -- yes, the Bag-O-Weiners
was THAT powerful -- and within seconds both my kitchen table and our cat were sucked into the newly formed crater.
I was left hanging from our chandelier and it took me an hour to rescue the cat using gum on the end of our kitchen
mop. The table is still in there.
The average house does not need a ridiculously large bags and boxes of food stuffs! No one honestly wants a pack
of muffins that eclipses a coffee table in sheer size alone. In fact, the very MOMENT you break that "stay
fresh seal" those muffins are going to morph into fresh baked concrete goodness with awe inspiring speed.
If you possess any skill at all, you might just manage to consume the one muffin near the far right back of the
box if you can shuck off eight yards of saran wrap quick enough to reach it before it, too, hardens like The Rosetta
Stone. This is just a blatant waste of delectable goodies and I'm positive that all across this country of ours
children are going to bed each night hungry for these tasty little pastries! Who are you to deprive them by hogging
them all up for yourself and, really now, what are you going to do with seventy-two stale muffins? Cobble your
drive with them?
Next we have the eighty pound "Wedge-a-Cheese." Whether it's neatly sliced or one big, solid chunk you
really have no business operating gigantic masses of cheddar without some special licensing from the Dairy Board.
I'll let you in on a secret. You are NEVER going to polish off this cheese before it goes bad! Ever! Yes, I know
you can peel the mold away and it's still "perfectly good cheese." I had a mother, too, you know? But
what good is it if you peel and peel until you're left with something resembling a Moo-Town snacker? Here's my
advice. Let it mold, slice it thin and -- viola! -- brand new shag carpeting that doubles as a tasty treat! It
may as well serve some purpose.
These impulse purchases could possibly haunt you forever. When I moved into my home over eight years ago I brought
along with me the "Gigantic Jar of Pickles!" I think it was a gift from my mother, or someone equally
as disturbed. Well, eight years later and those pickles are still in my refrigerator. The jar seems to have dropped
in volume some over the past few years, but we've never even broken the seal. I'm beginning to think the pickles
are turning on each other in there, consuming fellow pickles with heinous disregard. I am NEVER breaking that seal
now. Who knows what those shrunken little cucumbers are capable of? I've got small children and animals in the
After all, it did take me an hour to rescue that cat last night. I'm not about to lose him in a vicious pickle