I am the ant: Part I

I was at Fred Meyer a few weeks ago, buying milk and oj on one of their frequent "$1.25 for a half-gallon" coupons.
Well, they used to be a dollar, but, you know, price of oil and all that.
When we had a houseful living at home, I always bought the limit of ten, because five gallons of anything didn't last long. Now that it is just The Two of Us (why do I want to burst into song?) I usually buy a couple of oj's and four milk.
So I get up to the checkout and the clerk says, Did you know there's a limit of four?
Why no, I said in surprise. How long has it been four?
Oh, a few months, she replied.
Well.
She went on, Yes, they had to lower the limit because people were hoarding. They were freezing the milk.
In my mind, I was sarcastic.
You see, I have frozen milk. Although, not for a couple of decades.
But, afraid that she would see the hoarder in my eyes, I smiled sweetly and said, Well, I guess it depends on your perspective. Some people would call it smart shopping. She conceded the point, albeit reluctantly.
And as I walked out of the store, I wondered what my fellow shoppers would think of me if they could see this

and the buckets of wheat that I plan to eat before I die.

Or foist off onto my children.

And do they know that gallon jars are my favourite size for lentils and chocolate chips?

And that I buy my flour in 50lb bags from Costco?

My spare room closets are havens of cans of hot cocoa mix and rice and dried potatoes

and vacuum-sealed bags of chocolate chips and Clif bars and boxes of candles and Emergen-C.

My freezer seldom has a cubic inch of spare space

and my pantry.

Well, let's not talk about my pantry. It is a disorganized mess and my oldest granddaughter needs to come help me organize it.

So yes, I am the ant.