My father made a trip to the wholesale club today. It’s something that he does every couple months to buy the things that get used up frequently—toilet paper, dish detergent, flour—mostly stuff like that.

Well, I happened to be around when he returned with a car load of groceries. After helping bring them into the house, I took the initiative to unload everything into their pantry.

A lot of it was bulky and difficult to nestle into tight spaces. At the frustration of moving thing around, I let out a frustrated sigh. Immediately I noticed how crazy that really was.

You know you live in a rich country when there’s so much food, it’s frustrating to find a place to put it all.

This is a weird place we live—but I’m grateful for it.