My blogs have been ever-so-melancholy as of late. So I decided to dig up some of my older, more lighthearted stories. I stumbled across this gem, and it made me giggle. Hope it does the same for you. X
So today I raged out at Schnuck's.
But to be fair, I was delirious from lack of a real meal in the past 48 hours.
FIRST: a woman takes her 5 children into the produce section and lets them run rampid, screaming profanities no 8 year old should know or at least dare to say in public, with their mother. My response: I dodge the kids 4 times, until, on the 5th time, I "accidentally" graze one's shoulder with my cart. Afterwards, the mom grabs this child by the arm and seemingly pulls his arm out of the socket.
SECOND: A family of a foreign descent is gathered closely around the dairy, more specifically the milk, section. They're staring as if this is the first time the beverage known as milk has been introduced into their lives. My response: I whisper, "Excuse me..." No response/movement. I repeat. Same reaction. So I then shove my wee body in between two of the clan, grab a jug of skim, and whale it into my cart, throwing one arm up in the air and muttering the word "ridiculous" under my breath.
THIRD: A few feet down from the milk, two men are debating which kind of margarine to purchase. One wants Parkay. The other wants to try the new I Can't Believe It's Not Butter Mediterranian Spread. I just want my spray butter. I try to squeeze in between the two slightly large men, not wanting to disturb the debate. When suddenly their attention is stolen by the tubes of cookie dough neighboring the margarine, and I am shoved over, HARD. My response: What could I really do...I giggled politely, accepted their apologies, and silently wished death upon them both.
Needless to say, I sped home to dig into my carton of ice cream. And all was well again.