Grocery Drama

On a recent visit to my parent’s home, I was running a few errands solo when I decided to stop by a discount grocery store for a few items. I was unfamiliar with this area of town and realized when I stepped into the grocery that it might not have been the best place to go alone. Undeterred, I started down the first aisle looking for spiral pasta. Two women walked into the store behind me, and one started to narrate rather loudly her shopping trip.

“Ooooh yeah, baby! I’m gonna get me some pork rinds, yeah and I’m gonna eat some pork rinds tonight, Uh-huh!!”

I did my best not to turn around and stare, and kept working through my short list while listening to the narration that continued behind me. The store is set up in a fashion that you can see across the aisles, giving everyone in the store a view of this annoyingly loud customer. As I turned the corner and started down the second aisle, I chanced a quick glance into the first aisle to get a look at this obnoxious woman who seemed determined we all know her opinions of each item in the store. No sooner had I turned my eyes back to my list when I heard a very loud, “I SAW YOU LOOK AT ME LIKE I WAS ALL GHETTO!”

I’m sure my eyes got as wide as dinner plates and it took everything within me to keep my laughter from exploding like a geyser. I saw a customer next to me look at me with disdain. I’m not one to usually pick a fight in the grocery store, or anywhere for that matter. In my half-second glance I had surmised that the loud narrating woman was about twice my size, but I figured I could outrun her. However, since I really needed the items on my list so I could make a salad for a party the next day, I decided to ignore the comment, keep my eyes forward, and find those yellow and red peppers as fast as I could.

Some people seek attention in the most unusual ways.

Million dollar moment #19

Recent Funny Moments

Million Dollar Moment #16

Little Miss just completed a week of Safety Town. Every evening for a week, kids entering kindergarten heard important messages from “safety heroes” in our town  – firemen, bus divers, policemen – and learned silly songs with memorable messages. At the end of the week, the parents came for a party and they sang us their songs and answered questions about what all they learned that week. Upon completion of the “Safety Town Celebration” Little Miss looked at me wide eyed and said, “That was the first time I sang on stage in front of people. I liked it. When can I do it again?” No doubting whose daughter she is.

#17

On the way home from Safety Town Celebration, we had a discussion on which Disney Princess was the most safety smart. We determined it was Cinderella. She had a mean stepmother, but she always did her work with a good attitude, and then she obeyed her fairy godmother and went straight home at midnight like she was instructed not even stopping for her slipper. We decided the least safety smart was Snow White because she let the stranger in the dwarves’s home. That was one of the most bizarre conversations I’ve ever had.

#18

One recent evening at the park, T-Rex kept asking me to do something for him over and over and over. I finally said, “I haven’t heard a please yet.” He looked at me and said, “Yeah, neither have I!”

Who moved my cooler?

Million Dollar (maybe Gazillion) Moment #15

My running partner Jen and I are training for the Detroit Marathon this October. This past weekend we reached a new milestone for us – 16 miles. It was a gorgeous early evening run and the best I have felt in a few months.

When we run that many miles, we’ve discovered that we need a drink about every 2 miles. We planned ahead and dropped coolers with drinks, banana slices, sports beans and power gel (a refueling substance) every 2 miles along our 6 mile loop. Our route was out in the country on dirt roads. We rarely rarely see cars on these roads, but we still stashed our coolers in the tall grasses so they weren’t visible from the road.

After we had finished the run, stretched and showered, we headed out in the car to go pick up our coolers. That’s when things got interesting. It was dark by this time, and we could not find our second cooler. We hunted and hunted and shone the headlights on the corner where we were sure we had left it. About the time we gave up and decided Jen would go back and look for it in the morning, the young Amish man from across the street came over and asked us if we were looking for a lunchbox. He then told us that the neighbors down the street had picked it up. They had seen it on the corner and saw that it was full of stuff and just couldn’t understand why it was there so they took it home. Jen explained to him that we were training for a marathon and need drinks every couple miles so we had left it there to use during our run. The conversation had a hilariuos loop to it because he just kept saying over and over that they didn’t understand why it was there. Finally, Jen got out of him which neighbor had picked it up, and thankfully she happened to know who they were.

The next morning she headed down to the neighbor’s house to get the cooler, and sure enough they had it. The lady said they saw it sitting there and that it looked like someone had put it there and not like it had fallen off a car and she had picked it up because it didn’t make any sense to her. Oh my. So Jen explained to her about our training for a marathon and asked her that if she saw anything like that again to please leave it because it would be ours. The lady smiled and said she would.

That same morning Jen was unloading the other coolers when she found a surprise in one of the larger ones. She opened it and on top was a note that read “Sorry I got your cooler greasy. I wanted to see what was in it and had been working on a tractor. Put some extra goodies in there for ya.”

Now if you found a cooler full of drinks, banana pieces, sports beans and sports gels, and if you decided to leave treats for the athletes in said cooler, what might you put in it? Cookies? More water? Or how about a package of pink peeps, a bottle of A-1 steak sauce, a packet of hot chocolate, a McCormicks Grill Mates Hawaiian Luau spice packet, and an onion? That is exactly what she found in our cooler. She called me, and I have been laughing all day long.

We’ve decided that we’d better start hiding our coolers better. We had no idea that her country neighbors would be so creatively nosy.

And in case you are worried about us, because I know some of you are – we always run in daylight, with a cell phone, and most of the time with pepper spray.

I have a picture of the cooler and its contents, but I can’t get it to upload. So sad!

Dreaming of Cheese

Million Dollar Moment #14

Of all the things that we look forward to as parents – first smile, first tooth, first steps, first words – there are so many things along the way that you never realize will be memorable milestones – like the first time they attach a real name to a toy, or the first time they tell you about a dream.

The other day, T-Rex told me about a dream he had while sleeping in the car. It’s the first time he’s ever re-told a dream to me, and it had me and Little Miss in stitches.

T-Rex: When I was in the car and sleeping, I was dreaming about a man, and every time he opened his mouth, cheese came out. It was like when a dragon breathes fire, but it was a man and he breathed cheese.

Little Miss: He was a cheese breathing dragon?

T-Rex: No, he was a man. He was a cheese breathing man.

And by this time, all three of us were cracking up. I knew he loved dragons. He apparently loves cheese too!

the seductive peach

While my mom and I were canning peaches the other day, in between bites of juicy peach off the pit, I started thinking about the fruit of the original sin.  For some reason, we always attach an apple to that first sin in the Garden of Eden, but I’m not sure that’s quite right. Apples are pretty, and healthy, and tasty, but tempting? Compare a freshly picked apple to a freshly picked tree-ripened peach, dripping with juicy flavorful flesh. You take a bite out of a fresh peach and the aroma instantly fills the room. Your teeth sink into the intoxicating flesh and the surrounding world mists away. And then someone invites you to share their bite of peach and how, oh how can you resist?

Peaches are a more fragile fruit than apples. They bruise more easily, they ripen more quickly and don’t have as long of a shelf life as apples. I mean, you can juggle an apple (yes, I can), but juggle a peach and you’ve ruined it. I think a gorgeous peach tree, loaded with this delicate, fragile fruit and a “do not eat” sign makes so much more sense than an apple tree. The fruit matches the crime. They took something beautiful and full of life that God had cautioned them to treat with care and respect – and they bruised it, forever damaged for all future generations.

An apple, in my opinion, just isn’t as appealing (ahem, no pun intended). Even the freshest, sweetest apple, doesn’t melt in your mouth the way a peach does. And we know how humans, especially in the face of sin, prefer to take the easier route. Face it, apples, you just aren’t as seductive as peaches.

I rambled on, and my mom agreed with me, that quite possibly it could have been a peach instead of an apple.Then she reminded me “but the problem wasn’t with the apple or peach on the tree, it was the pair on the ground.” Yeah, read that one again. And now you know where I get my awesome sense of humor from.

Drama bandage

#13 Million Dollar Moment

Little Miss tends to over exaggerate. I have no idea where she gets it from *cough* but I think she’ll be a great storyteller someday. In fact, we’re so used to her drama exaggeration that last summer we didn’t realize she had a fractured arm for a week because she made practically zero fuss. Bad mama.

This week while visiting my parents, she got a teeny tiny scratch that barely broke skin. This minor scratch caused major ruckus, I think mainly in an attempt to get her brother in trouble. Mom and I were fixing dinner. We inspected it, told her she was fine, it didn’t need a bandaid, it wasn’t even bleeding, and so on. When my Dad got home, we made him deal with it. So he took her upstairs, and she returned, rather proudly, with a bandage to fit the drama. It’s nice to see his paramedic skills put to good use. He was rather proud of himself.

Of course, then the bandage caused more drama because she couldn’t get it wet. But then Mom told her that meant she couldn’t go swimming, and the scratch was miraculously healed. That’s some serious medicine in that bandage!

Floating Farm

#12 Million Dollar Moment

My dad is a magician/juggler/clown. My father-in-law is a magician/juggler/storyteller. I can do ventriloquism. My husaband and I and all 3 of our brothers can juggle. His sister can do mime. We all (including the mothers) know how to properly manipulate a puppet and at least twist a balloon dog.

Therefore, it should not surprise you that my kids would request a floating farm of balloon animals in their swimming pool and that my mom would happily twist a pool full of balloons to oblige.

An Ode to the Cold Salad

Oh cold salads. How I love you in the summers. How do I love you all? Let me count the ways.

1. You make summer parties a snap. Like a few weeks ago when The Narrator requested a family lunch after the triathlon on his birthday. I assembled you all a day or two ahead of time. All packed neatly in bowls in the fridge, you made the race day party completely hassle free. We cheered on the sidelines, then rushed home to greet everyone for lunch. I pulled all of you out of the fridge and set you on the counter. Hungry triathletes and spectators hungry from watching racers work so hard devoured you in good form. Then I packed you all up and put you away. No oven, no stovetop, just pure cold refreshment assembled with leisure the day before. And everyone raved over the refreshing food on the warm sweaty day.

2. You make picnics in the woods taste gourmet. Mr Mighty bean salad all full of protein swimming in vinegar and spices, and you Pretty Pasta Salad with chunks of cheese and onion and peas swathed in white low-fat mayo, you made that picnic in the woods by Lake Michigan taste exceptionally delicious. Paired with the turkey burgers toasted over charcoal, this was no ordinary picnic of burgers and chips. Waiting for us in a cooler so patiently, you did your job of finishing off a day full of sun and sand with memorable gusto. Ravenous from a day full of play, you were the star of our dinner under the canopy of green.

3. I can eat you for weeks. Leftover in my fridge, you keep for  a week, and some of you for two! And most of you give us the pleasure of tasting better after each day you marinate in your dressings of choice. I loved you the first time, and even more the second.

4. At impromptu gatherings you make my life easy. Like the time I ran 14 miles with my training partner, and we came home ravenous and empty of fuel, we paired your mighty leftovers from the picnic the day before with a takeout pizza. You hit the spot, taking pizza and making it into a full, well-rounded meal with your veggies and protein to supplement and soak up the grease and the bread.

5. You keep me cool and refreshed. What summer cook doesn’t hate to be stuck in the kitchen slaving over 450 degrees of heat? That’s why you, Mighty Bean Salad, dumped from cans and whisked together in healthy oil and vinegar are one of my favorites. Even you, Chilled Chicken Salad, after a quick stovetop visit for the chicken are rather easy to assemble. And you marinated veggies, chopped and dumped into a pool of vinegar – you all help me leave my shiny new oven feeling rather blue and alone. Never fear, she’s just on summer vacation and will be put to good use this fall, when this cook doesn’t mind the heat so much.

Blueberries this way

I’m kind of addicted to picking blueberries. And eating them. I’ve gone blueberry picking 3 times this month. I never knew what I was missing!

My second blueberry picking trip was with my Mom and Little Miss Sunshine. Unlike our first picking trip, the day was clear and sunny and gorgeous. The blueberries had plumped and hung on the bushes in clumps singing in unison “pick me!! pick me!!” I never realized how many blueberries could grow on one bush. You could stand at one bush and pick probably a pound of blueberries or more by the handfuls. The sweet aroma like blueberry muffins hung in the air. I am definitely going to have to plant some blueberry bushes.

Once our buckets were full we headed back to the car to drive to the stand to pay for our treats. We had arrived before the rush and the street was filling up. I had parked on a slight incline and as I was backing up, I thought I was getting stuck on the hill. I made it out onto the street and realized I had run over their little wooden sign with an arrow that said, “blueberries” to help people know the blueberries were behind the row of apple trees. Oops.

Little Miss Sunshine was rather concerned. “You’re going to tell them you’re sorry you ran over their sign, aren’t you? You better tell them you’re sorry.” Oh…the values we instill in our children come to haunt our own actions. “Yes, Little Miss, I’ll tell them I’m sorry.” Although I really didn’t want to admit I’d knocked it over. I tried to stand it back up, but it needed a staple, or nail…or superglue.

As I was checking out, I could tell that Little Miss had an eagle eye on me to make sure I apologized. As I handed the dear owner my cash I said, “And…I accidentally ran over your blueberry sign.” She looked at me and said, “Oh, well did you put it back up?” I shifted my feet, “Uh, I tried, but I think it needs a staple to hold it together, I’m sorry.” There I said it. Whew. I loaded up a bag with cucumbers to kind of make up for the poor sign. I figured it was time to try to make pickles anyway. She said she’d have one of the guys look at it and put it back together.

We got in the car and I informed Little Miss that I had done my deed.

We returned to pick a few more pounds of blueberries one more time. There’s nothing like having a freezer full of blue summer in January to break the icy doldrums. I hoped the owner didn’t recognize me from the other day, and if she did, she didn’t mention it. She was just happy I bought 5 more pounds of berries, and some peppers and broccoli too. I did notice that the sign was back up, and had a little string for extra support. I parked on the road, nowhere close to the sign.

#3 Million Dollar Moments

Politics according to a 5-year-old

We were gathering opinions for where we should go to dinner tonight when this conversation erupted in the backseat:

T-Rex: Chick-fil-a! (his response every time we ask him where he wants to eat)
Little Miss: There aren’t any Chick-fil-a’s in Michigan remember?
T-Rex: Chick-fil-a!
Little Miss: We don’t have Chick-fil-a in Michigan because the governor doesn’t like Chick-fil-a. Soon we will have a new governor and maybe he will say, “Someone can open a Chick-fil-a in Michigan now!”
Narrator: Where did you get that idea, Little Miss?
Little Miss: Papa

I knew it.

I think that should be part of the gubernatorial debates, “And sir, what do you think of Chick-fil-a, and will you allow them to open franchises in Michigan?”