The price for freedom or is freedom the price?

You either pay a price for freedom or with it for everything else.

Groceries

My last two outings have been for shopping - and one of it was for grocery shopping. I hate shopping and hate grocery shopping even more. I think its a complete waste of time and for 27 long years, I had managed to avoid it. I never helped my mom. I almost never shopped for groceries. My mom, on the other hand, would just freak out if she saw fresh vegetables or fruits anywhere on the road. By anywhere, I mean anywhere. Obsessively so. Even if we were driving on a pencil thin, terribly crowded lane of Mumbai, (which is obviously a two way lane. Duh, all of them in India are!) and there was no place to park, nowhere in sight. I never understood that madness. I still don't. No, no, not there yet. But I actually had fun shopping for groceries. Because now I think, grocery shopping is like being a part of a story. You really have to know the previous threads, to want to create new ones. Else, you won't get it. You need to know whats there at home, whats not, and why whats not is so important. You have to feel the relief of seeing milk on the store shelf and sigh quietly about how much you missed it, and how badly you want it. You have to dream about making Pasta, taste it in your imagination, when you see bell peppers. Grocery shopping is a part of making a home - your own little space in the world- and running it.

P.S: And I never want to mom or anyone in that category to ever see this post. Like ever.