Bulk rhymes with Hulk as in the gigantic green guy in the Marvel movies. I mean he started off in the comics but most of my knowledge comes from the movies seeing as I wasn’t a big comic book kid. Hulking out seems like an apropos visual for our current situation.

But I digress.

We have a BJs membership — think Costco without the liberal leanings. I know, I know, it doesn’t exactly align with my belief system, it’s just the wholesale store that’s in our town and we set up the account when my husband opened his office in 1997.

1997. Or what the kids might call the late 1900s. Bless.

Regardless, we should probably talk about changing out membership. A 30 minute drive down the road doesn’t sound unreasonable to me.

Anyway, my twenty-year-old wandered into BJs with a friend the other day and was gobsmacked. I know this because I got a call while he was in the actual store saying hey, aren’t we members here? Because this place is amazing! Clearly I didn’t take the kids in with me while they were growing up.

This would have taken some maneuvering as I was a stay at home mom but once they were in school I just went during school hours. Why? Because BJs (like most wholesale stores, I’d imagine) is wildly overstimulating to me. So much STUFF, so many AISLES, so many CHOICES. It’s dizzying and impossible to navigate with smaller people in tow. For Pete’s sake there was always math involved as I crunched numbers at displays to see if buying enough peanut butter to feed a Bed and Breakfast crowd made sense for our family of four.

Bulk products have their place but these days that place is usually for large family gatherings.

Linda hosts Stream of Consciousness Saturday. This week’s prompt is “bulk.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!