The good genes

My dad is a supermarket-holic and his sister is one too. A supermarket-holic is someone who visits the local supermarket every day just to keep tabs on the produce prices and to swoop down on any discounted meat or vegetables. My dad will scour the local supermarkets for the best price on nectarines or chicken or sugar snap peas, without even a second's thought on the cost of his time or petrol. Nothing will bring him more joy than knowing he can save 50 cents on an egg plant by shopping at the Woolworths in Woden, as opposed to the Coles in Tuggeranong. I suspect he even keeps an eye on the use-by dates on the refrigerated chickens so he knows exactly when to turn up when they go on sale. The only thing I am quite sure he doesn't do is 'dumpster-dive' for free produce (thank God). Dad is in no way a stingy man and he is not trying to be frugal either (otherwise he would have factored in the petrol prices). Nope...I think it simply brings him joy to buy lots and lots of discounted supermarket stuff (his version of retail therapy I guess)

Anyhow, my dad's antics had never given me much cause for concern until recently as I'm now beginning to suspect that my dad's behaviour might be heritable. You see, on Sunday, I found myself venturing out into the sweltering heat to loiter at the fresh meat section of the newly opened Coles' supermarket at southern Cross Station hoping to buy discounted chickens. And it's not like they were some special sort of chicken either. Not free range nor corn-fed. Just the regular, mass-produced farmed-lot type. But the joy. Oh the joy of finding a chook that was a dollar off. And by the way, the beans were also a dollar cheaper than the Safeway in the city....