Actually, I sent him anywhere that would have a gallon of milk. I'd been cleaning refrigerator shelves and unpacking suitcases and ice chest, and I was pooped. Fortunately, we'd learned a wee bit after our Hurricane Rita experience in Lake Charles; before we left Sunday, we triple bagged everything from fridge and freezer so we could bundle them into the garbage can. Two or three days without power can make a really nasty mess to clean up; worst case, you'd never get the smell out of the guts of the fridge. So, we sacrificed the tilapia fillets for the good of the stainless steel side-by-side. Which of course meant - no food in there. Damn the kitchen fairies, they must have evacuated as well.
So off he went, in search of milk. The usual grocery was closed, the Winn Dixie was closed, ditto Super One, so he found himself in Wal-Mart, amidst near-martial law. He said the shelves were all empty, and when an employee would show up in the vicinity with fresh supplies, the school of piranhas would descend, stuff would get snapped up out of hand and never make it to the shelf. He said he was on the bread aisle, located a few packages of po' boy buns, went to check out the cold cut situation, and got back to find the packages gone. He had to call to find out if 2% milk was acceptable. (We usually drink skim...) He had so much panic in his voice, I had to talk him down and assure him that anything he made it home with would be juuuust fine. He soldiered through the madding crowd and presented his spoils (ha!): a pack of turkey cotto salami, a pack of honey ham, two loaves of wheat bread and the gallon of approved 2%. The fridge has contents once again, and we had supper (salami sandwiches and some potato soup I had in the pantry) that didn't come out of the ice chest or some restaurant kitchen for the first time since last Sunday. I don't think he'll be volunteering for Wal-Mart duty any time soon, though.
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