I'm boycotting Trader Joe's for exactly two days. I went there today and had a horrible experience. I was looking for bacon and found two packages that were open. The guy I told about it said, "oh, that isn't good" and then went and found me a good one. Nice, but still makes me wonder.
Then, while we were standing in line, Hayden's chin starts randomly bleeding. Alot! He was dripping and everything. The hole that the blood was coming out of was approximately the size of a pin prick. It was like he had sprung a leak. The girl behind the counter gave us some tissue to sop it up, but it just kept bleeding. I grabbed some more tissue for the road and we left.
As we are walking across the parking lot, Lauren accidentally trips Hayden. Down he goes, onto his knee and elbow. He's screaming like a little girl, so some nice guy comes up and offers us some wet wipes to clean him up. It was so crazy, it was actually comical.
When the chaos finally comes to an end, I get a band aid on his chin and we drive home.
As I'm unloading the grocery bags, I pick up a pack of juice boxes, only to find that two of them have been mysteriously skewered somewhere along the way and have pooled in the bottom of the bag (luckily, they were my cool new 99 cent bags and not paper). Good Lord.
I will keep my promise to boycott for 2 days. It's going to be really easy seeing as how I wouldn't ordinarily return to the store for at least a week anyway, but it makes me feel better.
The end
11 comments:
Man alive! sounds like a very stressful outing for you.
you are a woman of iron will, sarah...if only i could be so very strong. i'm going to write an epic poem about you.
There once was a gal we know.
Who shopped at a Trader Joe.
When bleeding began,
the good people ran
And the bacon...it had to go.
Dad, you SHOULD quit your day job and go into the highly sought after limmerick business. I have no idea how you do that. I hated the poetry section in school more than anything else. I'm dreading my kids' going through that. Maybe it won't be so bad if they take after you!
I haven't seen you in a coon's age!
Poor Hayden and damn Trader Joe's. I was going to go there this week for some frozen French Toast but now I'm going to have to wait it out.
Do let me know when the boycott is lifted... I love that French Toast.
There once was a boy named Hayden
Who tripped and squealed like a maiden
His mother just stared
She honestly cared
But her sanity quickly was fadin'
Okay it's no "Jim MacLimmerick" but I try...
Now Hiakus (sp?) those are impossible to me.
Steebur, you make me proud.
Way to go.
And what is a Coon's age anyway?
AH. I do love me some limmericks. They make me smile.
Ok, I just researched Coon's Age.
It has no racial issues.
It's all about Racoons.
Whew!
The expression "in a coon's age" dates to the early 1800s, and to the folk belief that raccoons are long-lived. A wild individual raccoon might live up to 5 to 7 years (average survival being much lower, though, probably 2-3 years), and in captivity they can live up to 14-17 years. So their lifespan is comparable to that of a dog."
In the early 1800s, it's doubtful if anyone knew how long raccoons actually lived, and two to three years in the wild is not really very long. But raccoon fur is hardy and reasonably durable, which might have given rise to the belief of longevity.
There you go.
I learn something new every day... thank you dad for that tid bit o' info! :)
I too hated the poem section of English - I usually had mom write me one... much like I did for many a paper as well... Thanks mom - I probably would still be in the 6th grade if it weren't for you....
Sarah - I'm glad the bleeding stopped and the bag wasn't ruined by the juice - luckily you didn't get the bacon home and then find out it was leaking... that would have been much more disgusting than the whole juice box fiasco!
Anyway - nothing more tonight on these subjects!
I took 2 poetry classes back when I was in college. (hehehe... its fun to say that) Anywho, I always thought that poetry was a very personal and expressive artform, one where you should get a grade for just writing. Well, I've come to find out that there is indeed a right way and wrong way to write poetry. Assholes. As much as I love art classes, I think its complete horseshit to grade someone on the correctness of their poetry.
This rant was brought to you by Ashley Froelich Complaining Systems, LLC.
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