I'm Perfectly Normal. Ain't I?!

Costco was so crowded today. They were also offering lots of delicious samples including shrimp scampi, breakfast burritos, quiche, and salmon. Nick called me to relay that his father said I should get ice cream (which strangely Will does not confirm). I had just eaten a pizza sample and it was not wanting to go all the way down. I told Nick I was probably going need to go over to the soda aisle and sneak a soda to get it down. Fortunately, I was able to get it swallowed without resorting to that.

I had a cart full of items and was heading out of the store when my dear friend called. It's really difficult to maneuver a full shopping cart while holding a cell phone to your ear. The check-out guy at the door turned his back and stepped in front of me, to test my reflexes I presume. I skillfully but narrowly avoided him and gave my full attention to the phone call as we discussed what food should be served on New Year's Eve. I traversed the crowded parking lot, scanning all the gray cars that look just like my Camry, but not spotting it. (I think I'll get a big purple car next time.) We couldn't come to any conclusion about food, and I couldn't come to any conclusion about where my car was.

I finally confessed to my friend that I should probably call her later because I needed to devote my attention to finding my car. (Why did I admit this to her?) For some reason she brought up the last time we ran into each other at the store. I had stepped away from my cart to speak to my niece Brianna and her new fiance, bringing my purse with me. When I returned to my cart, I put my purse in it and was about to push it away when the person who was using it indicated she wanted it back. Oops, wrong cart, and unfortunately my friend with the elephant memory witnessed it. I had forgotten all about it. Doesn't everyone do things like that? Of course they do.

So, back to the Costco parking lot. I got off the phone, moved one lane over and stopped to reconnoiter. I noticed a woman waving at me and realized I was blocking an empty parking spot that someone wanted to utilize. How embarrassing. Just before I completely panicked, speculating that my car had probably been stolen, I remembered exactly where I had parked it and found it! How could I have forgotten such a close parking spot on a busy day at Costco! It was just too close, that was the problem! And certainly I would have remembered had I not been so distracted by the weighty discussion of what food was worthy of our New Year's Eve celebration!

At dinner, my husband wanted to know what the deal was about me sneaking a soda at Costco. I had to explain that I certainly wasn't talking about stealing a soda. Once when I got a food sample stuck in my throat, I had to get a case of soda (which I purchased on my way out), go way to the back aisle and covertly drink one. Obviously you don't want to do something like this in the middle of the produce section, thus I mentioned "sneaking" it. From there I shared the above Costco happenings with him and two sons. They reacted like I was an airhead or something. I also mentioned to Nick that his requested Cinnamon Toast Crunch (he wrote "sugary unhealthy cereal" on my grocery list) actually had less sugar than his father's Frosted Mini Wheats, however the Mini Wheats have more fiber.

The men in this family then verbalized their vision of me spending all afternoon wandering around the Costco parking lot, talking on my phone, blocking parking spaces, and comparing nutritional information on the food items in my cart. Their speculations about my unsupervised activities degenerated from there. Why must they pick on me like this? I am so misunderstood! Nick then "twittered" something about needing to hire a camera man to follow his mom around to document all her shenanigans. Ha!

But I must be doing something right. The cupboards and fridge are full of food and I provided my family with some delicious homemade chicken noodle soup and biscuits for dinner. The laundry is done, the house is respectably clean, and I believe beyond a reasonable doubt that I am one of the most normal people I know. I insist.