saturday morning shopping trips with bill are ALWAYS interesting. we tend not to behave very well in general in the grocery stores. i don’t mean we’re knocking people down with our shopping carts or yelling at people or fighting other shoppers for the last package of ground beef. i mean that when we’re without our children (jackson), we tend to erupt in loud laughter and giggling fits. not really bad. just behavior that’s not met with approval (by jackson --he can be quite embarrassed at times). so we enjoy ourselves when we're without him.
but bill is, umm, you know, bill. EVERYTHING is blog or story material for him. we have at least one conversation a week that ends with “you will NOT blog about that!” sometimes, he understands and appreciates my point of view, sometimes not. i, however ALWAYS respect his wishes.
so, as usual, we were goofing along in the grocery store this morning, and we hit a spot where i had to issue the “no-blog” directive. so since he’s been denied on the really interesting, personal, funny stuff, he’s gonna get even. he blogs about me – very cunningly – THINKING about killing him.
so, i’m here to set the record straight. it – murder – never crossed my mind. i DID, however, point out the possible ash containers. BECAUSE. because we seem to be amassing quite the collection of ashes.
we have my mother’s ashes (1/3 of them). we have bill’s dad ashes (1/3 of them). we have betsy’s (our beloved 12-year-old boxer who died last spring) ashes (1/1 of them). my mom’s ashes reside in a plastic box in a cupboard in the garage. betsy’s ashes are next to mom’s (ashes). bill’s dad’s (ashes) are in a carved wooden box way up top of a cupboard in the family room.
in general, we would have to plead “guilty” to not treating these “remains” with respect, i guess. and we have passed this unruly and impolite disrespectful behavior down to our children. more specifically, to jackson. he has been known to ask friends if they’d like to meet his grandmother. when they say “sure,” he’d direct them to mom’s plastic box that used to reside on the garage shoe rack (another sign of our horrible values).
i’d like to know why dad gets to “live” in the house, and mom, albeit not in the shoe rack anymore, has to “live” outside. next to betsy.
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another saturday morning shopping trip story. this time without bill.
i left early one saturday morning a couple of years ago to meet a couple friends for breakfast and then to proceed to the local “marc’s” store to purchase sundries needed for an upcoming business trip to chicago. so i was a little more dressed up than normal. this was the last time i would EVER wear a slip. 40 years ago, in elementary school, we were taught to always, ALWAYS wear a slip under a skirt or dress. i was the last of a dying breed. could not fathom not wearing one. until this fine, sunny morning in april.
i had a lovely time with my friends, we said good-by, and headed out to our respective errands.
i spent about 45 minutes walking the aisles at marc’s, in fact i ran into a couple of other people i knew. chatted, picked up everything i needed. i proceeded to the check-out lane (the shortest line was the farthest from the exit door). i was feeling really fine that day, friendly with the clerks and everything. purchases completed, i picked up my two small plastic bags with my one free hand (as i use a cane), and proceeded to walk in front of all the check-out lanes to the exit. half way there, i felt something at my ankles. i looked down. MY FUCKING SLIP IS ON THE FUCKING FLOOR. in front of like 4,000 people. oh my god. i can’t WALK like this. so i have to “step” on the slip with my cane so i can step “out” of it, and then pick it up with my cane (like i’m waving a white flag – which, in fact, umm, i was). i stuff it in one of my bags and leave.
moral of the story: take your pick. my teacher was an idiot. slips are evil. don’t dress up on saturday mornings. bring bill with you ALWAYS to gather errant undergarments.
I don't enjoy shopping at the best of times but I think when I come to Cleveland I definitely would like to go shopping with you and Bill.
Slips are evil and your teacher lied. I don't wear them. Oh yes, that's right because I never wear a skirt or a dress.
Your teacher WAS an idiot for never teaching you that one golden undergarment rule... if your undergarments fall around your ankles, you simply smile as you glance normally around and daintily step out of said undergarments and continue on your way! Never, I repeat NEVER stop to gather them up before you leave! Dumb teacher...
Posted by: Crazy Girl at November 2, 2003 12:38 AMMy Mum lost her knickers (as we call them here) while out for a walk, fortunately we lived in the middle of nowhere at the time. I'd love to see the faces of the people Jackson takes to meet his Grandmother!!
Posted by: Anji at November 2, 2003 08:02 AMI want to go shopping with you guys. It always sounds like such an adventure.
Just make sure Billy puts gas in the car before we leave though...
Posted by: Kathy Howe at November 2, 2003 10:05 AM