MARK MY WORD: IT'S TOUGH TO TACKLE CANDY PANDEMONIUM

Candy pandemonium. How else can I explain buying 10 bags of Halloween candy at the grocery store last week.

It started out as a simple trip to the supermarket.

Joni sent me on my way with our 3-year-old daughter, Becca, and instructions to buy some food so we could avoid starvation.

My wife also suggested I pick up some Halloween candy.

How tough could this be?

Plenty, I found out.

For one thing, I made the mistake of not handcuffing Becca to the grocery cart.

Being 3, she insisted on walking down the aisles with me.

I managed to buy one loaf of bread, two packages of hot dogs, cheese, two gallons of milk, two pot pies, paper towels and a few other items.

Being a guy, I had to go down aisles two and three times to pick up all the items.

Guys make great explorers. You can send us to the moon or out into the jungle and we can survive on beer and snack peanuts.

But send us to the grocery store, and our brains suddenly turn to mush.

We can't understand why the orange juice isn't next to the apple juice, or why the milk and the eggs aren't together.

On our grocery store journey, Becca picked up two cookies, a Hershey's bar and some grape drink. But at least she didn't knock any canned goods off the shelves.

So far, so good, I thought. I had managed to navigate through the store aisles without losing Becca or buying every colorful box of cereal in sight.

It didn't take long to fill up our shopping cart. At that point, Becca needed to go to the bathroom. I parked the shopping cart along the back aisle, hoping that no one was going to cart off our cart.

After the potty break, we headed at a quick march for the Halloween candy.

I turned down the candy aisle and ran smack into candy pandemonium.

I started grabbing bags of Milky Way bars and other assorted treats. I didn't even ask Becca what she wanted. I just started piling the candy in my cart like some crazed chocoholic. Becca clearly was delighted. She looked up at me with her best "Mommy wouldn't be doing this" smile.

With our cart buried in candy, we headed to the checkout counter.

The entire bill came to more than $100. But that's no surprise. When you pick up just a few things at the grocery store, they always add up to at least $100. It doesn't matter if you are buying meat or rubber bands.

We left the supermarket and headed to a discount store to pick up some over-the-counter medicine for Becca.

We were there only a few minutes during which time Becca got lost and found again.

We left with the medicine and a giant bag of assorted candy. I had to buy it. The candy attacked us as we stood waiting innocently in the checkout line.

Back home, I carried in bag after bag of groceries. But when Joni emptied them, she discovered about a third of it was candy.

"Where's the food?" she asked incredulously.

I mentioned the two pot pies, the lunch meat and the bread.

Joni mentioned the Milky Way bars, the chocolate peanut balls, the suckers and other treats.

"You just can't send guys grocery shopping," she remarked.

It was just one of those Halloween hauntings, I said. But Joni didn't buy it.

Not only that. Next time, she won't let me buy it.

~Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.