Costco is at once a wonderland and a dizzying maze of obstacles (Read: other shoppers with giant, overflowing carts all getting in each other’s way).
My household only signed up for membership in the cult store once we’d purchased an actual house with room to hoard things, and now we go primarily for dog food, army-supply amounts of toilet paper and paper towels, monster packs of string cheese, and oversize jars of fantastic (and fantastically priced) almond butter.
One item we usually skirt, though, is the steak. The quantitie…
Costco is at once a wonderland and a dizzying maze of obstacles (Read: other shoppers with giant, overflowing carts all getting in each other’s way).
My household only signed up for membership in the cult store once we’d purchased an actual house with room to hoard things, and now we go primarily for dog food, army-supply amounts of toilet paper and paper towels, monster packs of string cheese, and oversize jars of fantastic (and fantastically priced) almond butter.
One item we usually skirt, though, is the steak. The quantitie…
