Wait, you can run out of ketchup?

When I met the man who would become my husband (lucky guy), he was raising two children. I didn't even have a fish. I had pretty much changed apartments when my lease ended each year, moving condiments along with furniture, clothes, and art work. He had lived in the same house for almost a decade. As our relationship progressed, I eventually moved in with him (ok, it was only after 3 months).

My trips to the grocery store, prior to moving in with him, had pretty much amounted to an average of $50 a week. I ordered out on Friday nights. During our first month living together, I went to get the ketchup from the fridge. Where was the ketchup? Surely, there was ketchup in this fridge? I just used it last week. I moved leftover containers around, moved milk and pop bottles. No ketchup. I moved the salad bowl. No ketchup. M, I said, where is the ketchup? M replied one of the kids probably finished it, and there would be a new one in the pantry. Wait. What? Finished the ketchup? The huge bottle of ketchup was gone? How was this possible?

Fast forward, 8 years. I ran to the grocery store the other day just to pick up the basics we were out of. $45.18 the cashier said. $45.18 for a quick basic grocery store run. I went home and put the groceries away. I had to move the extra bottles of ketchup and salad dressing in the pantry, so I had more room for chicken and beef broth (Swanson, only, I have standards). Not only did I laugh at the extra bottles of condiments in the pantry, but when did chicken and beef broth become staples in my pantry? Probably about the same time I learned you can run out of ketchup.