Archive for November, 2009

It Feels Good To Be This Shallow

I wasn’t planning to post anything more before we left town for the Thanksgiving holiday, but I can’t resist describing my afternoon grocery shopping trip.

Ginger and I maneuvered our cart to the canned fruit section because there was a sale on mandarin oranges – $1 per can.  This is a good price in my corner of the world and given that fresh fruit that was not trucked in from 2500 miles away and/or not blasted with pesticides and/or that doesn’t taste like mildly-flavored water is pretty much out of the question right now, I tend to fall back on the canned variety to get the kids through the winter time.

So there we were, standing in front of the oranges, and I’m studying them because they are on the top shelf and someone has stacked them three high, meaning I don’t come close to reaching the top cans.  Worse, the cans sitting near the edge of the shelf have been sold, so I have to go up on my tip-toes and hold onto the shelf to have a prayer at getting the cans that are still there. 

I manage to pull down a few cans and put them in my cart.  Then I turn back to figure out how to reach more of the cans.  At this point, a woman with a young child steps in front of me and starts pulling cans down.

I’m not sure there exists a term precise enough to describe how I felt, but “gobsmacked” comes pretty close.  Was it not COMPLETELY OBVIOUS that I was in the process of pulling the oranges off the shelves?  This was a serious breach of grocery store etiquette.  Where are the canned fruit police when you need them?!?

Now to be fair, I’m not entirely certain this woman knew what I was doing.  Although I was standing directly in front of these items and had removed a few cans from the shelf, it’s entirely possible she thought I was simply admiring the remaining cans, hoping they were going to find good homes.  I suppose. 

But I doubt it.

So when she pulled down a few cans, struggling as I had given that she was about my height, and stepped away to put them in her cart, I did what any petty, passive-aggressive individual would do:  I stretched as high as I could and snagged every last can that someone of our height could possibly reach.  Better yet, I took my time.  And I could feel her standing there watching me.

After I cleared the reachable portion of the shelf – buying far more cans than I actually wanted – I turned to Ginger, said, “Come on, Sweetie!” in a chipper voice, and walked away.

I hope she was gobsmacked.

I’m Still Alive

Goodness, I didn’t realize so much time had passed since my last blog entry. Where does the time go?  At least I have a good excuse: we’ve been hiding in the basement with food, toilet paper, and shotguns, hoping that no one with swine flu comes near us.

I kid.

But seriously, who knew it could be so difficult to find a doctor to stick a sharp object in you?  My kids finally managed to get their first round of jabs, but I’m still naked, as is GrumpyDaddy.  My hands are practically bleeding from the constant washing and I canceled a play date when the mom told me her kids woke up with runny noses.  I’m not sure why I bother, given that my kids are in school and therefore will eventually contract every illness known to humankind.

So it’s been total chaos around here for no good reason other than that’s life in our household.  No one has pooped on the carpet, I haven’t ruined any food lately, and we didn’t leave town only to discover how much we miss being childless

For whatever reason, 3-year-old Ginger’s social life has kicked into high gear and we’ve had loads of play dates.  I suppose this is good, although she managed to bite another child at one of the play dates we hosted, which essentially is the social kiss of death amongst pre-schoolers.  She has never done this before and after the talking-to I gave her likely never will again, but I suspect the victim won’t be inviting Ginger over any time soon. 

The episode was just awful and was one of those moments that made me want to disappear into thin air because I was so mortified.  Remember Jonah, who bit Fred?  He was on my mind the entire time I was on my knees, in Ginger’s face, telling her that she was going to be in time-out until she was 18 because this was so beyond unacceptable.  I don’t think I could have apologized more to the victim’s mom in my effort to be the un-Jonah-mom.

I also got a bunch of hair cut off and was berated the entire time by a very loud hairdresser who spent 20 minutes announcing to the packed salon how awful my hair was.  I used to dye my hair and I’m growing it out because somewhere between the dye and my pregnancies, my hair went bad.  Really bad.  And if you had been in the salon that day, you could have heard just how bad it was.  The worst part was that I tipped her anyway when she was done.  Why why why???

So we are off for Thanksgiving.  A full week in a beach rental with my entire family.  And yeah, I’m thinking the same thing you are and it essentially involves the Oh &%#! face.

Happy Thanksgiving!