I have one more story from summer. One more story before I flood you with demands to decorate for Halloween, like, two weeks ago. 

My family regularly vacations in North Carolina’s Outer Banks. I’ve visited one particular island since I was born. More recently, I’ve spent time in Wilmington for my daughter’s camp. 

One thing ubiquitous throughout the Outer Banks is their supermarket chain, Food Lion. 

While in Wilmington a few years ago, I discovered something glorious about Food Lion. 

They have an app. And grocery delivery. 

This discovery was priceless. One, we run to Food Lion daily when we’re in the Outer Banks. And two, I was the only parent in Wilmington. 

Somebody had to stay home and work to fund my lavish, Food Lion-fueled lifestyle. 

I signed up for an account with Food Lion. I signed up for emails. I downloaded the app. I ordered groceries. 

From then on, each time I received a Food Lion email, I smiled. 

See, I had a plan. 

In the past, I’ve always packed one bag with beach supplies. Bathing suits, towels, sunscreen. Sand toys, when the kids were little. 

Upon arrival at our rental, my husband takes the kids straight to the beach. After eight — or more — hours in the car, it’s all the kids want. Beach, the usually verboten soda, maybe a pizza. 

I always stay behind, unpack, and grocery shop. 

But now — now that I have the Food Lion app, I am unstoppable. I’m like Daenerys Targaryen when the dragon eggs hatch.  

Except, you know, with clothes on. 

I planned to order groceries when we were an hour out from the rental agency. If I timed things right, those groceries would be waiting for me on my rental’s front step.  

I could unpack, stow the groceries, get to the beach in far less than my usual two to three hours. And even though I always need more groceries during the week, I could order them. No more trekking through the aisles with the kids in tow.  

This plan so excited me, I shared it with my husband the moment I signed this summer’s rental agreement.  

In February. 

“That’s awesome!” he said. “Strong work!” 

I love it when he says that to me. Strong work. 

As the winter progressed to spring, as tough days with Willie gnawed at the corners of my brain, I’d think about that rental house. I’d think about my grocery plan. 

These vacations with my family, the vacations to the Outer Banks, they’re special. It was Indy who discovered our island. As a kid, I ate at the unfortunately named Sanitary Fish Market. I visited the island’s aquarium. I walked the ramparts of Fort Macon. 

As an adult, I visited these places with my children and husband. I introduced them to hush puppies. I read the kids legends of the Outer Banks, put into book form by a local judge. I met him, that judge. He signed those very books I read to my kids. His neighbor taught me how to snorkel. 

Willie stood on the shore during that snorkeling lesson, repeatedly asking if tiger sharks were lurking, waiting to devour me.  

Suddenly, that whole scuba phobia is a lot less mysterious, isn’t it? 

Willie also once insisted I sleep at the Temple of Doom because I told her I saw a bunch of deer on the Temple of Doom’s front lawn. 

“They cause car accidents, you know,” she said. 

I did not sleep at the Temple of Doom. 

Nor was I devoured by a tiger shark. 

This has been one of the joys of my life, sharing this island with my kids. My daughter is studying marine biology in part because of these Outer Banks vacations. “Look,” my aunt once said to me, “at what your father started.” 

The Outer Banks are his legacy. 

And that set up I have? My packing the beach stuff in one bag so the kids can swim while I handle the nitty-gritty? I borrowed that from Willie. I have fond memories of Indy taking us to the beach, of us returning to the house to find pizza and Cokes waiting, Food Lion ice cream in the freezer. 

My contribution? The Food Lion app. Grocery delivery. 

My excitement bubbled the closer we came to our trip. I told my daughter about the Food Lion grocery delivery plan. I told my son. 

“What?!” my son said. “You’re having the groceries delivered?!” 

Um, yes? 

“Mom,” he said, “going to Food Lion — that’s my favorite part of our trip!” 

“Let me get this straight,” I said. “Your favorite part of the trip is the Food Lion on the first day of our vacation?” 

Yeah. That’s his favorite part. Not the hush puppies or the judge’s stories. Not the touch-me tank at the aquarium. Not the soldiers’ quarters at Fort Macon. 

None of it. 

I reassured him he could peruse the app, select his chips, his soda, his breakfast. 

“It — It’s not the same!” he sputtered. “I need to walk through the aisles. I need to see what they have!” 

And that was it. My Food Lion plan was jettisoned.  

My memories were, too. The hush puppies, the judge — they’d meant nothing to my son. 

When we got to Food Lion, my kids, old enough now to shop on their own, scattered. They met us at the register, their baskets filled with chips, soda, breakfast. 

And, apparently, memories.  

I think I like that plan a lot better.