I need you to know how you have grown in my heart.
When you first started showing up in commercials with your baby face and pastel sweaters, I thought you were in direct conflict with the reality of your Superstore brand.
You see, while growing up, the yellow President’s Choice packaging was a mark of shame, the meat isle stunk, the produce section is where the city’s veggies went to die and your blood pressure took a roller coaster ride just walking through the store. With that in my memory as I started to shop for my family, I would have rather seared off my ear lobes than shop there voluntarily.
But Galen, your folksy sales pitches won me over. I came in because your sweet face said, “trust me, come into my place, it’ll be lovely to have you over.” And I did and now I have sipped on your soft-voiced kool-aid.
We are a family of five, and while 3 of those are children, our two one year olds eat like lumberjacks. I need to shop wisely.
And then my love, you brought me the rewards card. Thank you. You are saving me buckets of money each month. I call my husband on the way home from the store to tell him how many points I scored this time around. I geek out on Thursdays, looking at my app to see what deals you are gifting to me this week. You get me, your algorithms get me. You know what I love, you know what I need, sometimes your point offers tell me what I need, and I’m ok with that.
Waiting in the checkout line, I hear lovely ladies saying they will be saving their points to spend on their sweet grandchildren at Christmas time. Me? I’m throwing down those points faster than a drunk frat boy at a Vegas craps table.
And thank you Butter Buns, you don’t make my family eat the stinky meat or dead produce anymore. The best rib eyes we’ve had come from you; we feast on your bountiful harvest of produce and my kids eat the crust on your bread. Thank you.
Now I am sure you haven’t done this all by yourself. I’m sure you have small sweater-vest wearing minions are have done your bidding. Please pass some love along to them as well. And your friend Joe? Joe Fresh? Thank him also for clothing my children in the cutes.
In closing my dear. Thank you for being you. For taking my hand and leading me through your doors, for saving my family money when we need it most and turning grocery shopping into a pretty skookum experience (as long as I can do it child free).
Love you forever,
P.S. Packing my own groceries still sucks ass, but not everyone is perfect.