Whole Foods: Why Can’t I Quit You?

Dear Whole Foods,

Because of our frequent visits to your 80,000-square-foot flagship store, you probably are familiar with my family. We are the ones playing hide-and-go-seek among the racks of organic-cotton yoga pants and in your dressing room. We are also harpooning large chunks of golden pineapple with our toothpicks. And we like to rock out in your baking aisle — especially when The Go-Go’s assure us that we got the beat.

Still, I think it might be damaging to my reputation as a frugal mom to be hanging out in a place nicknamed “Whole Paycheck.” What’s more, I find your CEO’s opinions to be as unpalatable as paying $19.99 for a pound of Goat Gouda.

Yet even if I wanted to end our relationship, my kids would never let me; indeed, your rooftop playground, free Quack’n-Bites crackers and spontaneous gifts of sticker dolphins reminding us to “recycle on porpoise” have forever imprinted my children with brand loyalty. Oh, and your recent photo-op-perfect miniature pumpkin patch — you know, the one where my toddler enjoys kissing each 25-pound “Big Mac?” That hasn’t hurt either.

Oh, who am I kidding? You had me at “one-bite brownie sample.” But then you added a free Afro-Cuban music concert, a 99-cent-a-pound organic apple sale and periodic, inexplicable swag. Remember the cherry-red, Egyptian-cotton baby hat that your team member “sampled out” after hearing me explain to my daughter how we couldn’t afford such frivolities?

So we’ll see you later. But if my friends ask, tell them I’m at Costco updating my price book.

Sincerely,

The lady feverishly clipping coupons for organic blueberry waffles.

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