45 Grocery Inflation Jokes for the 2023 Receipt

Cereal is $9 a box. I told the kids breakfast is now a special-occasion meal.

A dozen eggs is $4. I keep one in the safe and the other eleven in the fridge.

Eggs went to $6. I asked the cashier if the chicken signed an NDA.

Eggs hit $7. I started referring to the carton as a portfolio.

The chip bag is half air, half chips, and one hundred percent the same price.

I opened the cereal box and it sounded like a maraca with one bean in it.

The candy bar got smaller. I think it's training for a marathon.

The Oreo shrunk. Now the filling has more confidence.

The cracker box is the same size as last year. The crackers inside are at a conference somewhere.

Orange juice is 52 ounces now, not 64. I am paying for the missing twelve in emotional damage.

Ice cream is 1.5 quarts now. The half-gallon is a memory I share with my parents.

The price stayed the same, but the bag now fits in my pocket. So that's a bonus, I guess.

The self-checkout would not accept the price of the avocado. I think it was protesting too.

Unexpected item in bagging area. The unexpected item is my dignity.

The self-checkout queue is longer than the cashier queue. We have collectively forgotten what the cashier is for.

Lunch for four was $80. We had sandwiches. From the deli case. Pre-made.

The receipt is as long as my leg. I had to fold it twice to fit in my wallet.

I now check the cart total before checkout the way I check my bank balance before a flight.

I abandoned a cart in aisle nine. I told myself I forgot something at home. I did not forget anything.

The produce is priced by weight. I am priced by panic.

I picked up a pepper, looked at the sticker, and said out loud, I just bought this last week.

An avocado is over $2. I now eat it with a small spoon and respect.

There is a cilantro shortage. My salsa is a personality crisis.

Lettuce went up. I told the family we are doing crouton-forward salads now.

The egg shortage hit. I started rationing them like a war movie.

The chicken-tender shortage is real. I had to explain to a child that the freezer has lost its mind.

I walked in for milk and grabbed a basket, not a cart. The basket strap cut my hand on the way out.

I did not need this. I am carrying it to checkout anyway. The store has won.

I need this. The store knows I need this. The price reflects that the store knows.

I switched from brand-name to store-brand and the box looks at me with such pity.

The off-brand cereal is fine. It is the same cereal in a sadder font.

The off-brand pop tarts are called Toaster Pastries because legal will not let them dream.

The off-brand cookies are actually better. I will never admit this in public.

I clipped coupons for forty minutes and saved $1.20. My hourly rate is a tragedy.

I clipped the coupons. I left the coupons on the kitchen counter. The counter saved $1.20.

The rewards card was declined for being out of date. I have aged out of savings.

The app coupon requires opening the app, signing in, accepting cookies, and locating the offer. The egg is now cold.

Limit two per customer. I came back as a different customer.

The cashier looked at me, looked at the four boxes, and said the sign said two. I am not above that fight.

I did the cost-per-pound math in my head and made a small noise the produce manager pretended not to hear.

The cashier asked if everything is ok. I said I am just looking at the receipt. She nodded like a therapist.

The receipt has a Savings This Trip line. The line does not match the feeling in my chest.

The farmer's market on Saturday is somehow still cheaper. I drive past three grocery stores to get there.

The headline says inflation cooled. The cart says the headline has not been to a store recently.

I told my partner the receipt is a love letter. She said it reads more like a ransom note.