Fifteen minutes | Day 22 of 120

I have 15 minutes, probably less now, it’s been a few minutes since I asked for permission to be excused from my child’s list of things to do. She’s been waiting since this morning to play a game and make brownies. The brownies just went into the oven. I can hear her washing the mixing bowl. Listening to her say, “Mom I got this, just go,” was the equivalent of a symphony.

I have a headache. I spent the good part of the day Christmas shopping, followed by grocery shopping twice. Yes, twice. As the butcher handed me two pounds of loose Italian sausage, I turned to place the meat in the cart, but it was gone. Someone walked off with my shopping cart. The paranoid part of me, never walks far from my shopping cart without my wallet in hand. Someone else must have been looking out for me because I not only had my wallet but my shopping list, too. So for those two things I was grateful. I only needed ricotta and frozen spinach at that point. I am making macaroni and cheese and lasagna for Christmas Eve. I was 98% complete with my shopping until a thief ran off with my gouda, cheddar, parmesan, mozzarella, mushrooms, tomatoes, parsley, tomato sauce, bread crumbs, Italian bread, baguette, and even my green tropical detox smoothie.

I was peeved. The butcher made an announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, please check your carts. If you are walking around with someone else’s cart, please kindly return it to the butcher where its lawful owner will reclaim it. Thank you.” The levity was welcome by customers waiting. Sympathies were expressed. I hung out about five minutes then walked back to the smoothie station and shared my tale of woe. The young lady made me another, I grabbed a second shopping cart, unloaded the meat, retraced my steps, and rechecked items off my grocery list.

I thought things had turned around, I entered a line with barely a wait, and then a jar of tomato sauce slipped through my hands and shattered all over my pants, the shoes, the floor and more. It happened in slow motion. I could hear myself screaming the words inside my head, “Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Shhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiittttttt.”

My head pounded and I shrugged. I continued to load up the groceries on to the conveyor belt. Once again everyone was nice, telling me it happens all the time. “Don’t worry miss, all that matters is that you are ok.”

And yes, I am ok. What’s a little headache. Four pans of lasagna are made, two pans of brownies are in the oven. Bridget is unwrapping Mastermind and we are going to play a game. No TV. No phones. Just Christmas music and me and my kid. It turned out to be a perfect day.

11 Thoughts

  1. First off… to go with the start of your day, you are not on day 2 but on day 22 😉
    And for fuck’s sakes… who the hell steals another’s basket? I mean… it’s like an episode of Top Chef where you choose your ingredients and then… guess what folks? Yep.. you gotta swap baskets… have fun with that!!
    And I am so happy for you and Bridget that your day ended on a lovely note!!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hah! Thank God for you. I’ll edit that. I know who steals it and doesn’t return it! I didn’t write it because I didn’t have time but I found my stolen basket right before I left. It was sad and abandoned 🙃. Bridget and I just played the Oregon Trail game and she arrived in the Willamette Valley first but I was a better hunter and scored lots of cash along the way for all the meat I sold. So I won! Great ending!

      Like

      1. Hah! Call me your guardian Angel in times of frazzle 😉😎
        So someone just being an ass, then.
        Is it a board game? I’m trying to bring that back. We used to play with my sister(s) every Friday once upon a time…
        Fun stuff. 😍

        Liked by 1 person

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