Random Sunday

I wish I could stop singing "The Old Gray Mare..." in my head.

************************************************

Had this conversation at the grocery store check-out this morning with the cashier/clerk. I was in Central Market, which is just a very cool grocery store and it was 9:00 and the place was pretty empty.

Among the things I'd chosen, I'd bought coffee and bagels but I hadn't gotten the twist-tie right on the bagels so he had to re-do it and I said, "I'm sorry. My fine motor skills don't seem to have kicked in yet."

He smiled, glad to have someone with a sense of humor, I think.

He noticed the coffee I'd bought.

"Have you tried our Roasted Pecan coffee?" he asked.

"No," I said. "I don't really like pecans."

He looked at me aghast. (It's sort of an unwritten law that if you live in Texas, you have to love pecans.) I explained. "See when I was five I had this Traumatizing Pecan Experience. I was sitting on the floor in front of the Wonderful World of Disney cracking pecans on a plate and eating them and an earwig crawled across my plate and I ate it. It's been almost 40 years and I haven't been able to eat pecans since."

He said, "Well, that would certainly turn you off pecans forever. That's like me and the ice cream truck. There were these ants. In fact, there were even ants inside my ice cream bar. And that was it for me and the ice cream truck."

I said, 'Probably just as well, when you think about it. I always worry about the mental health of anyone who has to listen to that music all day long."

He laughed. "Yeah, you'd either really have to be able to tune it out or really like it or...be..."

I said, "Crazy. I guess if you weren't already crazy, it might make you crazy. I mean, I can't even go into stores with all that holiday music playing."

"Have a great day."

"You, too."

I'm going to miss Austin.

**************************************************
I took this test about my addiction to blogging and found out that I'm 82% addicted. Not 80% but eighty-TWO percent. I think that extra two percent should scare us all, don't you?

82%How Addicted to Blogging Are You?
***************************************************

Jane was very disappointed to not have a play date with her "boyfriend" (from preschool!) Phillip today. She left me the following note:


It says, "Dear Mommy, I want Phillip to come Now! Now! Now! Now!

PS: I wore body glitter for nothing!

from Jane"

I swear to you, my life flashed before my eyes.

Comments

Mrs.Q said…
Ah, how many times I've worn body glitter for nothing! I can certainly understand her pain.
Body glitter, hmmm? I wonder how that looks on cellulite and wrinkles?
Damsel said…
Maybe by reflecting the light in more directions, it would actually camoflauge the cellulite.... hmmm...

(PS I tried SIX times to re-spell camo---- that word, and I still don't know if it's right -- looks weird)
DK said…
I just snorted wine out my nose.

::sigh:: It's just as well that she finds out now how disappointing the dating scene is...The last time I was engaged was first grade. It was all downhill from there.

So, my friend Annie from Long Island and I were in this grocery store down in Jacksonville, Fl. And the friend we were with discovered that she had to go get something while we were checking out. So we're waiting for her, and waiting, and there's like three people in line behind us. And she's freaking out, right? Annie is just dying. The people behind us? Not so much. Reading magazines, looking around. Annie's flippin'. She's all, oh my Gawd, in New Yawk, the cops would be heah by now! Finally, Marilyn comes back, we check out, ho-hum. And Anne turns to me and says, "Huh. Maybe I don't have anxiety. Maybe I'm just from New York."

I don't know that that was helpful, really. But I have such fond memories of that story...
Ei said…
Ok I understand the "no stripper" goal better now.
Sue said…
Working in an ice cream truck would make me insane. Er.
Lynn said…
*Love* Central Market. They can't possibly have anything that cool in Yankeeland. Central Market is almost single-handedly responsible for turning me into a foodie. Well, that and the monthly dinners with Brother Sushi.
Trish said…
Ella leaves me notes like this (the spelling and handwriting are strikingly similar). I know you're keeping them all somewhere, in a box or a scrapbook or something, aren't you? Our new house will have bespoke cabinets and shelves just for all the notes and drawings etc. I can't stand to get rid of them. The girls are documenting their own development better than I ever could, and I've got a BLOG!
Oh My God! It's only 10:00 a.m. and I've already had my best laugh of the day. That is the best!