Things That Make Me Go Hmmmmmmm

Today I went grocery shopping.  Which…..is traumatic for me at best.  I cannot believe how much things are and how it makes my wallet scream to just purchase the essentials…..like cookies (oh gosh – did I say that out loud)….I meant laundry soap.  Yes, that’s it, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I had a pretty full basket and was about 3rd in line and the whole time I’m in line I can hear a guy talking in the aisle over – I can’t see him but I can hear him.  He is “dickering” over the price of everything, saying “oh, just put that back, I don’t need that.”  And I am already feeling badly for him.  Because I can’t see him, I realize he is using one of the stores’ motorized baskets.

How sad.

As my groceries are being rung up, he is finishing up and heading out. 

My attention goes back to my own business.  However, as I am headed through the parking lot with my cart, I observe the fellow sprinting to the back of the parking lot.

Okay……..I’m still not incensed………………………..until…………………………….

He arrives at his mode of conveyance.  A massive “hog” of a motorcycle complete with saddle bags and every other tricked out feature you can find.

He props his foot up on the saddle and tightens the laces of his boots, walks all around the bike securing his groceries in their proper places, jumps on, kicks that puppy into roaring life and speeds off.

So…………….obviously he could have walked through the store “pushing” a cart like I did, I guess he just can’t stand to be without a motor and wheels for any length of time.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Raining

Not the kind that we all need so badly. And not the negative "oh, rain on you!". Raining down my face. I am reminded of an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond when he looks in the window and sees his wife sitting on the sofa, crying. Interestingly enough, Raymond (un-evolved) as he is was SURE he had done something wrong to make the light of his life unhappy.

Turns out, after a lot of hysterical trying to make her happier, he finds she sometimes just likes to cry. In fact, she plans it. She gets a nice big box of tissues, makes herself comfortable on the couch, turns on Ice Castles and cries, and weeps.............and sobs. It makes her feel better.

Unfortunately, I have come to know that when you actually HAVE good reason to cry, it DOES.NOT make you feel better. It makes you sick, and you feel hopeless. It makes your head hurt. And yet, when there is reason to do so, cry you must. It is almost like being sick at your stomach, the only thing that will remotely help is to get it out.

It won't fix anything and chances are no one will really give a hoot in helicopter, but cry on. If God had not wanted us to cry, he wouldn't have given us tears nor the challenges that make those tears necessary.

Well Aren't We Fresh!

See this? You know what really bites the big one? When you pop for some of these (which aren't exactly cheap) and you go all around your house plugging them in. And 2 days later all of the "stinkum" has disappeared.

So you wonder to yourself, really? are the odors here THAT bad? And so you take them out of the outlets and you notice they have "stinkum" residue all over them. And then you realize you have plugged them in UPSIDE.DOWN.


And so then you feel incredibly stupid and more than just a little reluctant to go out and pop for more "stinkum." And yet.............you must.

And that's my senior moment for the day.

Mom and Her Amazing Technicolor Atomic Time Piece

A long time ago in a galaxy far far away I took a trip to see my mother.
The days seemed to stretch on and on with no end in sight and then suddenly the day would be done and we would sleep and prepare for the next endless day.
One day I noticed all the clocks were wrong in mom's house. Each one reflecting a different time and sometimes a different date. So, I asked my mother "mom, why are all your clocks telling a different time." She replied that someone else usually set them for her after the time changed and he had not come to do that yet and she had "tried" to reset them and couldn't figure it out. Apparently, once she began she lost track of what the right time was and therefore the clocks just got all out of whack.
In the course of this amusing conversation she revealed she had at least been successful in figuring out how to try to set most of them even if they were wrong, but one clock had managed to foil her every attempt.
She went into the bedroom and brought out a silver desk type clock made by Sharper Image. She handed it to me and said "here, see if you can figure this one out."
Turns out, the clock she was trying to set knew better. It was an atomic clock that ALWAYS....I repeat.....ALWAYS....reflects the right time.
Mom and I both had a pretty good laugh about it and she agreed if she ever really needed to know what time it was she would seek out the "smart clock."

Hats

My mom was a huge buyer of hats and oddly enough I NEVER saw her wear a hat after she was out of her 30s.

Yet....she continued to purchase them and then she would put them on and say "oh I look like an idiot in this hat!" And off they would go to the closet. Do-rags she embraced with a passion and when she passed I found enough bandanas to outfit every motorcycle gang west of the Mississippi.

My thought was always that in order to look good in a hat you just had to not be afraid to wear a hat. That just because you thought you looked ridiculous didn't mean the rest of the world was thinking the same thing.

I was wrong...............and here's why.

And here's another why.

Well....shut my mouth!