One day when I grow up, I want to be a brave and fearless shopper. Growing up in rural Michigan, trips to the grocery store usually result in bumping carts with at least one neighbor, family member or friend of the family. The farm scene of pulling up along side the road found its way into the store as carts parked and neighbors caught up.
Moving off the family dairy farm into a more urban area, rarely do I tend to bump carts with someone I know. Instead, I find my self slowing down in the dairy aisle to watch unknowing shoppers make their selections.
One day, when I put on my big girl shoes, I want to become brave and fearless.
I have always wondered what makes customers pick certain products. That day when I become brave in my mind and a weirdo I’m sure to others, I am going to ask. “Why 2%?” and make comments like, “As a Michigan dairy farmer, I appreciate your business” and “You know, it has to come from an mammal to be considered milk.”
While I could definitely see some mother ushering her kids away from the crazy in the dairy case, wouldn’t that one simple sentence put a face to the farm for someone that is disconnected from food production?