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Saturday afternoon at JoAnn's

So John and I made the fatal mistake of going to JoAnn's on a Saturday afternoon three weeks before Halloween.  John, "Couldn't you do this during the week?  I mean, you don't work."  Me, "Yes, but we're already here."  John, "We could change that."

I should clarify that John didn't intend to go to JoAnn's.  He went next door to the grocery store.  And he was in there so long that he thought for sure he'd get back to the car and find me standing there pissed off.  But I wasn't so he wandered into JoAnn's out of amazement really.  (I should also clarify that I don't sew but I found out my friend, Deb, does so I'm making her sew shit for me.)

I was at the Cut Counter.  The Cut Counter at JoAnn's is what I imagine a Methadone Clinic to look like.  30 people loitering around, glassy-eyed, not talking to anyone and if you do try to talk to someone they get all squirrelly.  Half the people don't know what they're doing so they're up at the counter waaaay longer than they should be.  And the clerks are all cranky.  Or waaay to talkative.  Frankly I prefer cranky. 

John walks up and I'm rockin' number 32.  The counter is currently helping number 19.  

John, "What the fuck?!" 

<mouth hanging open>

John, "That counter isn't right, is it?" 

Me, "Yeah but it was at 14 when I got here and they're moving pretty fast." 

John, "Why can't we cut it ourselves?"

Me, "All hell would break loose.  There would be blood."

John, "No, really why can't we cut our own?"

Me, "You have to have the inventory scanner-thingie to get the slip with the yardage and price."

John, "What the fuck..."

5 minutes later....

John, "Wait a minute...is she going on break?....what the fuck....."

John, "What is this fabric for anyway?"

Me, "Two are for Abbey's Halloween costume and the other is for her new pillow."

John, "We're standing here for the dog?!?"

5 minutes later....

We're standing next to three high school cheerleaders (I'm assuming) and all their Halloween costume paraphernalia.

John, "What do you think the fringe is for?"

Me, "Cowboys and Indians?"

John, "Ahhh.  Oh look, they're up."

Me, "And they don't know what they're doing so it's going to take forever."

John, "Holy shit, they're measuring each other."

Me, "Yeah and they're doing it wrong."

John, "Shhh, leave them alone, they're doing fine......"

5 minutes later....

John ducks outside to crack the windows in the car so the boys don't suffocate.  When he gets back, 4 of the cutters are standing around, cackling at each other, and not cutting any one's fabric.

John, "What'd I miss?"

Me, "The Great Scissor Debate of 2013.  Apparently Mabel tried to take Gloria's scissors.  One of the pairs of scissors is not as good as the others and no one wants to get stuck with them and it's all very funny."

John, "We should come here drunk."

5 minutes later.....

They're up to number 30.

John, "You're almost up.  Better get loose."

So I start bouncing on my feet, shaking out my arms and shoulders.  Cracking my neck.  

Lady next to me, "You going in?"

Me, "I'm going in."

And they call number 32.

We rush to the counter. I slap down my bolts of fabric and push two towards the cutting lady.

Me: "I need a yard of each."

Cutter: "Hey, hey, hey." <shoving one back at me> "I can only do one at a time."

Me: "Oh, I'm sorry.  Didn't mean to confuse you."

John: "Easy there killer. One at a time."

Me: "I dare you to climb on the counter and lay down."

John: "Does she have the good scissors?"

Cutter is pissed.  Apparently has noooo sense of humor.

But we make it out alive with our cut fabric and little slip of paper.  There was, shockingly, no line at the registers so I walk right up.  As the cashier is ringing up my purchases, two high schoolers get in line and the guy is carrying a bolt of fleece.  I can only assume he's going to be a Teddy Bear to her Miley Cyrus.  The cashier tells them they need to get the fabric cut at the cut counter.  That's right, junior.  There's no skippin' the Cut Counter.

Nobody knows what Gluten is

Want proof?  Here it is....The lady in front of me at Whole Foods was soooo excited to find gluten free cashews.  "Oh my god, they're finally making gluten free cashews!!"

Oh my god.  I hope you paid a fortune for that little bag of goodness because if 'stupid' can't hurt, it should at least be really expensive.

I think the meat department should relabel all of their product "gluten free" and raise their prices.  Then the next time I'm at Whole Foods, I'll be able to hear someone say, "You know, they're the only store with gluten-free fish."

Carpooling

So I've got this awesome carpool this year.  My friend, Tina, takes the kids in the morning and I picked them up.  Oh, I know, it's fancy but it's my first year to carpool so it's all very exciting for me.  One day last week, Tina had an appointment in the morning so I was doing the morning shift.  I had the boys loaded up in the car and was on the phone with TIna talking about silly PTA stuff and I ducked back into the house to pee.  At some point during the conversation she said, "Alex doesn't have his shoes on for some reason but he'll put them on in the car."  And I thought, "Okay, they're on their way over." So I walked back out of the house, past my car and was wandering around the driveway still talking on the phone.  Eventually one of the boys climbed out of the car and said, "Mom, we're going to be late!!" I yelled back, "We're waiting for Alex!!"  He said, "Alex is in the car!"  And I said, get this, "No, he's not."  So the kid is looking at me like I'm nuts because he's been in the car for the last 10 minutes talking to Alex so he's pretty darn sure the kid is in the car.  Not to mention than I walked right past him when I came out of the house and how does one fail to notice an entire additional human being in one's vehicle??

Me: "Shit shit shit shit shit"
Tina: "What?"
Me: "I didn't know Alex was in the car"
Tina: "What!?!?!"
Me: "Gotta go."
Boys: "We're gonna be laaaaaatttteeeee."
Me:  "No, we're not.  I drive fast.  Alex don't tell your mom how fast I drive."
Alex: "Woohoo!!!"

So this morning Tina had another meeting and I'm doing the morning shift.
Me: "Miss Tina has a meeting so I'm dropping you guys at school."
Sam: "Oh god, Mom, don't mess it up!"

Old Dogs...New Tricks

So Abbey has a few favorite spots to sleep during the day.  One of which is Tom's bed.   The room is warm and she can see out his windows to bark at dogs passing by and lose her mind when the postman has to delivery something to the front door.  Unfortunately, as with her other favorite napping spots, Tom's bed is rather hairy.  This would gross me out but he doesn't seem to mind.  And growing up with pets reduces the chances of developing allergies and asthma.  True story.  So really this is just another way that I'm Mother of the Year.  Not to blow my own horn or anything.....

But the slightly hairy bed, bothered my mom.

Mom: "You know, you could put a towel or small rug on the bed and train Abbey to sleep on that rather than on the quilt."

Me: "Well,  let's call that Plan B.  I still haven't given up on training the Human child to make his bed so the dog sleeps ON it rather than IN it.  As soon as I give up on the higher-life form, I'll move on the the canine."

Mom:  "And how long do you think that will be?"

Me: "I'll give it another year."

If you'd have just gone with the cake walk.....

So I ran by Target this morning on my way home from the gym.  I stopped by to pick up a few random things and the lady in line behind me had a bunch of Halloween-ish books; Frankenstein, Dr. Jykle and Mr. Hyde, that sort of thing. And I said to her, "Oh, those are cool." and she said, "Yeah, and they're only $1."  To which I responded, "Those would be great for the school's book-walk."  Of course I was halfway through my transaction so I'd have to finish up with this purchase, take these things in the car and come back in.  But it's for the school so fine.

I should back track...I was talking to my friend Tina yesterday and she was telling me how they were going to be dropping the Cake Walk from BooFest this year because of lack of time and maybe they'd have a Book Walk instead.  I was all "WHAT?!" cause I started the cake walk and I love it.  Then she said that she hates cake walks and would never eat a cake someone else baked because you never know if they washed their hands or picked their nose.  And I'm all, "but it's cake!" but I'm not at the school anymore so whatever.

Back at the car...I throw my bag in the car and grab my phone so I can text Tina. But I don't get around to that and just I tuck my phone into the waistband of my workout pants along with my key fob.  I tuck my key fob in my waistband all the time and it works fine and I'm left just carrying my wallet so life is good.  But apparently the added bulk of my phone had allowed enough wiggle room for my key fob to start sliding down my leg.  Great.  Now I'm walking through Target with my keys down my pants.  And as I'm wondering how to get them out, my phone starts sliding down after them.  Fuck. This is my second trip to Target in 4 minutes;  I just want to grab the books and go home so I just keep walking.  By now the keys have worked their way to my ankle and have dropped to the floor.  Woohoo.  I pick them up and keep going.  And I'm thinking "well shit, the phone is hung up on my knee so there's no way it's making it's way to the floor..."  when it starts ringing.  So here's me,  standing in the checkout line,  pants ringing,  pretending this kind of thing happens all the time.  "That's okay, they'll leave a message."

So if you parked at Target this morning, next to a lady who was sitting in her car, digging elbow-deep in her pants....that was me.

And Tina, I'm baking you a cake.

Open Letter

To All Silver Rav4 Drivers at my gym,

I think we should arrange to park together.  We could find a nice area in the back and park all in a row. That way I would no longer meander through the parking lot, each morning, trying to find my car.  I could just try one car after another until one of them opens up.

And before you ask, yes, I know my license plate number.  This doesn't, however, seem to stop me from trying to get into one or more of your cars every. single. week.  And some of them don't even look like mine yet I still find myself walking all the way up to the door, reaching out for the handle, waiting for the beep and shit.  again?! really?!

Or is it just me??