See Fuzzy walking in the pedestrian crosswalk. See Fuzzy get mowed down by a pickup truck. See Fuzzy rushed to the ER. See Fuzzy get a new but not bionic wrist. See one-handed Fuzzy try to cope with highly complex tasks such as clasping bras, taking showers, and going grocery shopping. Shop, Fuzzy, shop. But poor Fuzzy cannot lift anything with her healing left hand, wrist, arm, so she has to buy only a few, light items at a time. Sad Fuzzy, sad.
So after weeks (okay, over a month) of eating not so good for me food (i.e. anything that I could get into and eat easily with one hand: icecream, chips, cheese, candy, pasta, etc.), my body was in full rebellion mode. Not only was I puffing up, but I was always tired and craving “real” food. The couple times I tried to make eggs, they had bits of shell in because I never mastered the one handed egg break, and getting twister ties back on bread (or butter on toast) was just too much of a challenge to even bother with. And you can only eat so much pizza and Chinese take-out, right? I needed food, real food, and I needed it brought to me.
And along comes . . . drum roll, please . . . Stop and Shop’s Peapod home delivery miracle for the elderly, the infirm, the time-challenged, and the lazy. What a genius idea this is, and it’s so easy! Even a one-handed person can go online, click up a shopping list, hunt and peck in a credit card number, and await the (get this) next day delivery of all the groceries one could possibly want (and/or afford).
Is there a down side? Well, sure. You have to pay for the service (uh, well, of course!), but it’s not that expensive–about $10.00 for orders under a hundred dollars, and you save $3.00 on orders over a hundred. Not too bad if you balance out the time, effort, and just plain frustration of making a million trips back and forth from your apartment to your car. Another con is that you can’t get everything (every brand or item) online.
That’s it for cons, though. I actually ended up spending less money (even with the delivery fee) than I ever have by going into the store–I had a list that I could not deviate from. No sales to lure me, no empty tummy rumbling, no desire for delicious items I didn’t know I wanted until I saw them lounging temptingly on the shelves. And I ordered some bigger, heavy items that would have been a real challenge to bring in with only one hand. The produce I ordered (strawberries, raspberries, lettuce, cucumbers) was all first rate–I suspect that they were actually a better quality than the ones in the store.
It was such a great experience, in fact, that I’m thinking of ways to justify ordering all my future grocery needs via Peapod. Gasp, yes, I mean even when I get my cast off, get through physical therapy, and have full use of my left arm again.