But I just came in for milk, fruit: Family trip to the grocery store

Hello from the ultimate test of focus – the grocery store.

I write this from my local Whole Foods in Philadelphia, surrounded by strategically-placed items all aimed at getting me to grab them, even though I just came in for some fruit and milk. Maybe grab some ready-made food. 

(See, there I’m already adding to my grocery list in real-time.)

The whole goal is to sell you on a product

Entire executive education programs are based on this exact premise.

End cap? Top shelf? Where do you want your product placed? How much are you willing to pay for that precious shelf space? 

“You really want to make sure that your packaging stands off the shelf,” Julie Garber, marketing director for Soom Foods (more about that tahini company at some point), told me.

“You're 6 feet away—at minimum—from a shelf, so you want to make sure that whatever you put on your package it’s easily conveyed and perceived by your customer,” Garber said. “That it stands out and stops them in their tracks.”

Other ways brands get you to “stop in your tracks” are “neck-wringers” and “shelf talkers” that are “on brand,” Garber said.

Even the colors of products can speak to the consumer and get them to focus. Green typically means healthier or environmentally-friendly. While purple conveys a feeling of royalty, a mark of a more premium brand.

Brands understand that consumers are distracted in a grocery store even though they are trying to “get in and get out,” Garber said.

I don’t normally have time to walk the aisles. I sometimes grab an item or two that I see on sale or remember I need, but mostly I shop with a purpose.

That’s when I’m just shopping solo.

Try getting out of a grocery store with just what you came for when you have 3 kids in tow

What about being that parent with three rambunctious boys hanging on or in my shopping cart?

“Dad, I want popsicles!” “Why can’t we get those crackers?” “Yum, my favorite type of Pringles.”

Like I said, I only came in here for a half-gallon of milk and some oranges – or was it apples? I could use some bananas, as the bunch on my counter has started to turn brown.

What AI envisions would be in the grocery cart. Weird way to stack things I would say.

Oh man, what about that next lunch or dinner? Did I just use the last non-end piece of bread for my kid’s grilled cheese? Do we need some sauce for “Tomato Tuesday?” Maybe a dessert for my sister’s birthday party this weekend.

Hold on – stay focused – milk and oranges... and bananas… and a loaf of bread. My kid is thirsty… let’s add a can of bubbly water to the cart.

OK kids, time to get out of the cart. It’s filling up now that we put in some cookies, and oatmeal, and that bag of grapefruits that are on sale. Oh, a good price on swiss chard—I have grown to like that.

Now that I think of it, I could use some more rice… and we’re running low on sunflower seeds now that I see them in one of those dispensers – that my kids love to operate with a heavy hand – across from the grain aisle.

OK, detour to get that milk.

“Dad, I want a bath bomb!.” “No, son,” I say, “hold on, a pack of three are on sale for what’s normally the price of one.” 

Into the quickly filling cart.

Why did I turn left out of that last aisle? Oh, yeah, the milk. Oh, Greek yogurt for sale and that fancy cheese my kids gobble down.

“Dad, I’m hungry now,” says my youngest.

But, I already grabbed the milk and am headed toward the cash registers.

“We’re passing the salad bar section,” I think to myself. “At least they will be eating healthy.”

“OK, each of you can fill up one small cardboard container,” I declare.

“What’s that?” I ask my oldest, as I peer down at a pile of cheese with a little bit of fruit and what appears to be ranch dressing drenching the box. “Make sure you add some veggies.”

Oh no, my middle son just got a whiff of the hot bar – mashed potatoes, some mac and cheese.

“OK guys, time to go.” Who am I kidding?

“Can’t we get a dessert too?” At this point all the voices have blended into one.

“NO!” I yell, to the point where a woman nearby turns to go the other direction.

Oh man. No more express lane self-checkout. Too much stuff in the cart.

“Do you need bags?” the cashier asks. 

I didn’t think I would need more than this one I bought with me.

“Yes,” I say sheepishly.

$100 later, my $10 focused grocery store stop didn’t go as planned.

At least the parking was free.