Grocery Shopping with the Mister

The Mister and I toddled off to the grocery store today. We have to plan ahead now that our closest store, the ex-Albertson's, is closed. Can't just pop over for a quart of milk today and a tomato tomorrow because the minimum round trip is 8 miles. We've been spoiled.


We have three important shopping rules that we follow diligently:
1) forget the grocery list
2) leave the coupons at home
3) don't buy the most important item

Organization is everything.

Mister is one of those people who only wants to park within three parking spaces of the store. He circles around, circles again and then once more. If he would just drop me off at the door while he finds a space I'd be done shopping before he gets out of the car.

But he doesn't. After about 85 minutes he parks any old place.

What the heck.

Next we play the interactive Reusable Grocery Bag Game. It goes like this ( and I fall for it every time)

The Mister: How many bags should I bring into the store.
.
Cynthia: (considers # of items on list plus 2 bags of M&Ms the Mister invariably slides under the celery when she's not looking) Three
.
TM: Three? Do you think we'll need three?
.
C: Yes. Bring three. (holds up three fingers)
.
TM: I think two will work
.
C: If you know how many we'll need why do you ask me? Don't ask me. (left eye starts twitching)
.
TM: Well, I just think two will work
.
C: Two might be okay - it just depends on how you like your potato chips. Whole or smashed to smithereens. You decide.
.
TM: Alright, alright I'll bring three, but I tell ya, we won't need all of them.
.
C: You're such a minimalist. Don't ask me about bags anymore.
.
TM: (Stops walking and starts patting his pockets.)
.
C: What are you doing?
.
TM: Looking for the shopping list. I think I left it on the table. Did you bring the coupons?
.
C: Shit.

At the checkout The Mister encourages the bagger to keep stuffing things into the first two bags until they bulge to overflowing and something purple starts leaking out of the bottom of one of them. Then he folds the third bag with a flourish and announces for all to hear that two bags are plenty.

At home he locates the shopping list and finds that we did in fact forget to buy the most important item on the list; the press and seal plastic wrap. There's about enough left on the current roll to wrap up a gum ball. Got everything else though - plus two bags of M&Ms



pictures complements of Flickr

M&Ms compliments of the Mister

Layla's Dog Days of Summer

I'm Layla. I was an only dog. Just like in this picture. See any other dogs in the picture? Nope. Just Layla. I got alllllll of the attention, alllllll the treats and allllll the love alllllll to MYself. All the dog toys in the WHOLE house belonged just to Layla. It was MINE, MINE all Mine.

Then one day the people who give me stuff and sleep on my king sized bed like they own it say they have to go out for a while. They say it all sing songy which sounds stupid but I let them get away with it. I figure they're going to buy some Layla treats. So, I'm minding my own business, sleeping on MY king sized bed smack dab in the middle of the Dads pillow with MY Layla toys and MY chewey things sprinkled all around. And then I hear all the racket they make when they're coming home. And, get this, another dog shows up with the mom and dad! Lucy! She's all bouncy and wags her tail in my face. A big brown dog who wants to share. Share? I don't want to share. It's all MINE, all MINE. Lucy wants to play and be friends. Who wants to play with a giant brown dog who chews with her mouth open.

So here's a picture of the new dog, looking out MY window, standing in MY living room and spending time with MY family. She eats here, swims in Layla's pool, eats Layla's dog food, sleeps in front of Layla's TV, drinks Layla's water, goes outside and poops on Layla's lawn. Big poops. She plays with Layla's friends, and gets to lay in Layla's kitchen with the mom while dinner is cooking. I never do that. The mom makes too much noise and gets in my way.

If that's not bad enough, the first thing Lucy did was take MY personal private gingerbread boy. Here's a picture of her with it. She's got in her mouth all day long. She even jumped in the pool with it. What a dolt. It got all wet and and mushy and then it started to smell like a dead armadillo. Next thing you know, the Dad washed it in MY washing machine and dried it in MY dryer and now it's all clean and smells like mountains and lavender. Whatever the hell that means. And who does the Dad give it to when it's all fluffy and clean? Layla? No! He gives it to Lucy! Tch.

I just gotta say that this is a dog's life. I am really bummed out. So, okay, she can take my woobie, and some of my chewy stuff and jump around in front of me like a doofus trying to play with me, but guess what? I do not let her in MY bedroom. Ever. I make my teeth real big and make my eyes all squinty and mean. It works. She's such a pushover. So, Lucy has to sleep out in MY living room on MY new big dog bed that I decided to let her have. Plus, another thing I do is, I won't let her in MY office when the Mom is in there going clickety click on that thing she sits in front of. For hours. Like a zombie, when she could be holding me and giving me treats instead.

When Lucy tries to come in to MY office I do the big teeth thing and make my eyes all squinty and mean. It works. Here's a picture of me looking sad and forlorn. It looks like I'm an only dog in this picture. But there's another dog. She's standing next to the camera, jumping up and down like a doofus. She wants to play. The only thing I want to play is Make The Big Brown Dog Go Back Where Ever She Came From. That's what I want to play. Tch.

Stress Test? Stress Test? Who Needs a Stress Test?!?!

I passed my stress test today. I studied. It's the other stresses. The every day stuff that makes my heart go wacko. Not running on a treadmill. That only made me thirsty.

My list of things that are stressful. These are NOT in order of the heart palpitation factor:



Linda Gelanela standing in front of Pinellas County while she gives the weather report (MOVE)

Working

Not Working

Applying for jobs

Being ignored when I apply for jobs

Ignoring job application alerts

Physical examinations

Stress tests

Deciding what's for dinner

Watching Saving Grace (talk about stress!)

Things that go bump in the night

Watching my 401K descend into Never Never Land

Never Never Land

Michael Jackson

Traffic

People driving tan cars

Trying to get to church on time

Hurricane reports

People who take giant steps across the parking lot to get in front of me at Starbucks

People who are spread eagled over the sugar and cream station so I can't get JUST ONE napkin

Losing stuff

Forgetting why I opened the refrigerator

Car making a kabink kabink kabink sound

Leaving my shoes all over the house

Looking for the shoes I left all over the house

The dogs staring at me (WHAT?)

Billy Mays commercials (stop screaming at me!) (SHUT UP)

News Reporters standing on Clearwater Beach with rain slickers on reporting on hurricanes

The Mister staring at me (WHAT?)

Talk Radio (any)

Forgetting where I put stuff

Make-up counter ladies (What's with the attitude and quit looking down your nose at me)

Having to get out of bed before 9:00

Sleeping till 9:00

Sleeping later than 9:00

Dryer lint

Trying to figure out what to wear for a stress test

Football season

Wondering about being old

Remembering that I'm already old

Looking in the vegetable drawer ( I am not responsible enough to buy and store fresh produce)

Having to remove unidentified oozing objects from the vegetable drawer

Things that go bump in the night in the vegetable drawer

Trying to live up to other people's standards

Trying to live up to my own standards

Forgetting I only have to concern myself with living up to God's standards