Grumpy old bugger

I discovered something about myself today, and I didn't like what I uncovered.

I don't like Sainsburys. There are a number of reasons.

Parking is often a nightmare with many occasions of car park rage apparent.

It's difficult to find a suitable trolley (kiddie two seater), and once you find it the trolley is a nightmare to insert and extract children (shoes get stuck).

The whole store is less than 10 years old and it's falling apart. They have paper towels at the bottom edge of the fridge displays because they leak – yuk! The toilets are gross. The car park has signs that look they've been hit by a truck.

The store is poorly stocked which means I rarely go around the store and manage to get everything on the shopping list.

So when I'm doing my weekly shop with two children in tow it's not the most stress free experience. When I find something out of stock I vent my frustration by talking with the children. Usually along the lines of "Hannah, how many times have I said that I hate Sainsbury's?". "A hundred million Mummy." Or "How many weeks should we give Sainsbury's before we write and complain they haven't had this thing in stock, 12 weeks?" "8 weeks Mummy."

Now I don't want you think I don't ever approach Customer Services. In the few weeks within memory I've taken back yoghurts, oranges, grapes and strawberries that have been cultivating penicillin before the expiry date. I've also taken back milk bottles than have pissed milk all over my passenger seat.

Anyway, today after I'd vented some angst with Hannah, I overheard a woman talking to an assistant saying how terrible it was that I was just complaining without doing something constructive about it. I went over and joined the chat. Eventually the assistant asked what it was I wanted and, when I explained, she was able to demonstrate that they not only didn't have it in stock, but that they'd stopped stocking it. Now part of me wondered how the hell that helped me. The other part of me wanted to cry.

I realised it was probably true that I'm a bitter, twisted, miserable, old cow. There's always one woman like me in any neighbourhood. The kids in the area have a rumour that she's a witch and they're usually too scared to knock on her door. Er, that's me and I've only just realised it. I can be a right grumpy bugger.