I ONLY enjoy shopping if it’s for something cool like a leaf blower or gerbils.

When the cupboards are bare and there are strips of newspaper hanging from the toilet roll holder my little heart sinks.

Whilst personally I’d be more than happy to share my little dog’s Winalot, I’m sure the kids would be taken away from me if I fed them any more dental chews.

Last week I was forced to waste what little money I had saved for cigarettes and an offensive, novelty, Christmas jumper on a ‘big shop.’

When I say I needed everything, I mean EVERYTHING. I didn’t even have any washing-up liquid because I’d used it all as a washing detergent substitute.

In turn, I hadn’t any washing-up liquid so all my utensils smelled like Dove body wash.

I approached Aldi with caution, wary of being pulled in by any offers of expensive, gorgeous looking food like an XL turkey with all the trimmings that would leave me £1.99 out of pocket.

As usual I’d forgotten my carrier bags and I was in a foul mood after my trolley coin failed to release a trolley yet became wedged in the slot. After shaking the life out of the trolleys and looking like a mad woman wrestling a giant, metal snake I finally dislodged one and headed inside.

Triumphant, I held up my hand to high-five an elderly lady on the way in, but for some reason she just wrapped her coat tightly round herself and frowned.

It was my intention to whizz around, just grab all the necessities like washing powder, toilet paper and any miniature, imitation-mink dressing gowns that you put on wine bottles. I gave myself permission to look at all the Christmas gifts so long as I didn’t go over-board.

I grabbed the kids some cavity wall insulation and a few rolls of wrapping paper, you know, just so they had something under the tree.

The whole bi-annual food shop was going well initially. The trolley was almost full and, because I’d been keeping count, I’d only spent £14.73.

I headed to the tills and surveyed the scene like a starving coyote ready to pounce on a smaller, chubbier coyote. I hid behind the reading glasses and watched to see which till was moving along the fastest. I settled on till 3. The cashier was scanning those items quicker than I can open a packet of menthols.

I raced past an old couple and started hurling my food and wall insulation on to the conveyor belt. Till 3 was definitely winning – UNTIL super hands swapped shifts and what appeared to be a ‘newbie’ replaced him. Suddenly it was taking what felt like half an hour to scan one item.

I soon perked up when I realised I’d have to time to pack the items at the till instead of having to dodge them while they were being catapulted into the trolley.

I started packing my bags at the till when my turn came, all the while hearing a ‘tutting’ sound behind me. I thought I’d burst the cavity somehow but was shocked to find the ‘high-five’ lady shaking her head at me. I went in for another high-five but all I got in return was a ‘shame on you’ followed by a rude gesture.

See why I avoid food shopping? I’m going to stick to takeaways and dog-food so I can avoid the craziness.

Still, I only wasted 15 squid. Hello new dog-shaped coasters!