All skate, reverse direction
Zack and I made our weekly trip to Trader Joes yesterday, to stock up on the foods that accommodate our 'special needs'. Zack cannot drink milk and lots of junky preservatives that no one should consume anyway (I won't elaborate lest I gross you out entirely); I have IgE allergy to eggs (bone fide 'can cause anaphylactic shock' variety). We are a collective pain. Lucky for us, Trader Joe has egg-free mayo and a wide assortment of soy, rice and nut milks so we are good to go. I am a TJ groupie. I have an unnatural love for the quirky place.
Turns out other people like it too; it isn't my personal haven of safe foods. Fine. I know it is cramped and crowded, and I don't mind the fact that it is small compared to the big box stores. I prefer small. But that's before the place turned into Skate World, circa 1981 - except without a DJ and the sparkling disco ball. And let's be honest; skating without either is a darn shame.
The little darling in question apparently didn't get my roller skating manifesto as she circled the apples and nearly took out the elderly woman in the cheese department. She was attempting jumps, with an eye patch, and no helmet. She was clearly begging for another trip to the ER, which would really bum her mother out. Mommy was drinking free coffee at the 'concessions' stand, catching up with friends, oblivious that her daughter's performance had begun. It was then that I realized my blue hair was showing. I stepped on my soapbox, the private one where I mutter my snarky remarks, and began reciting my 'I hate heelies' speech under my breath. Because I do. They bug me.
Zack forgot all about my 'I think heelies are dumb' policy and immediately started whining how he too would like a pair. For his birthday. A mere 2 months away. Please.
I took a deep breath. We talked about alternative birthday wishes while I pictured ramming my cart with its own 'wheelies' into the Mom in question. Then I tried to think good and wholesome thoughts. Because Jesus wants me for his sunbeam.
I'm afraid I'm still a little dim.
Turns out other people like it too; it isn't my personal haven of safe foods. Fine. I know it is cramped and crowded, and I don't mind the fact that it is small compared to the big box stores. I prefer small. But that's before the place turned into Skate World, circa 1981 - except without a DJ and the sparkling disco ball. And let's be honest; skating without either is a darn shame.
The little darling in question apparently didn't get my roller skating manifesto as she circled the apples and nearly took out the elderly woman in the cheese department. She was attempting jumps, with an eye patch, and no helmet. She was clearly begging for another trip to the ER, which would really bum her mother out. Mommy was drinking free coffee at the 'concessions' stand, catching up with friends, oblivious that her daughter's performance had begun. It was then that I realized my blue hair was showing. I stepped on my soapbox, the private one where I mutter my snarky remarks, and began reciting my 'I hate heelies' speech under my breath. Because I do. They bug me.
Zack forgot all about my 'I think heelies are dumb' policy and immediately started whining how he too would like a pair. For his birthday. A mere 2 months away. Please.
I took a deep breath. We talked about alternative birthday wishes while I pictured ramming my cart with its own 'wheelies' into the Mom in question. Then I tried to think good and wholesome thoughts. Because Jesus wants me for his sunbeam.
I'm afraid I'm still a little dim.
Comments
Second, this incident brings back my favorite 'fun Christian' bumper sticker: Jesus Loves You (everyone else thinks you're an asshole)
I say it lots in my head; then pray for forgiveness while God shakes His head at me.
Love ya!
Buy Zack a skateboard.
T
I feel better now.
Zack has a cute little skateboard; I figure I can manipulate, I mean, strongly sway him into wishing for something better. I try to keep his menacing ways to a minimum.
Thanks for reading my blog. It makes me very happy!!