As I type this there is a big glass bowl downstairs sitting on our coffee table. This morning it was filled to the top with a four flavor assortment of chocolate easter eggs -- Butterfinger, Crunch bar, milk chocolate and caramel. Let's just say that only the milk chocolate and caramel varieties are left. I'd love to blame it on my son. But he doesn't like chocolate. He'll tell anyone willing to listen that he's allergic to it. He's been saying that since he was three years old. Why? I have no idea. He's not allergic. Children are weird and extremely uncivilized. I kind of feel that way myself at this very moment. There's so much caffeine rushing through my veins right now, weird would be a calm way to describe how I feel.
Last night we had family over to celebrate Easter. 28 people in all. So I did what I had to do and went to one of those huge warehouse stores that I dare not speak its name.
Pardon me, could you please tell me where your ginormous blocks of cheese are? Thanks.
Pardon me, could you tell me where your humungo bags of Tostitos are? Thanks.
Pardon me, is there any possible way to buy only 48 pounds of hamburger instead of 96? No? Ok. Thanks.
I maneuvered that colossal shopping cart around the store like a pro, dodging all these people in those tiny motorized vehicles. They were zooming around all over the place. It was like bumper cars at an amusement park. And some of them were on cell phones!
Once, as I was standing there pondering whether or not to purchase the jumbo double pack of Old El Paso salsa, this little old lady came zooming up behind me, told whomever she was talking to to hold a minute and yelled to me, Buy the organic! It's cheaper and you get more!
Ay Carumba! I decided to not inform her of all the new organic deregulation going on, threw the giant tub of organic salsa in my cart and headed to the check out.
And then I encountered the little area that made me sad. The Easter display with all the enormous tacky Easter baskets. You know the kind. About two feet tall, filled with shag toys, generic jelly beans and the occasional plastic baseball bat? Except these of course were bigger -- more like three feet tall, but still stuffed to the brim with all kinds of no-brand kid junk. I love those baskets.
My son made me promise I wouldn't get him an Easter basket this year. No Easter Bunny. No basket. No plastic eggs hidden around the house with quarters and dollars in them. No more treating him like a baby. I think he's become allergic. I looked at all of them. Picked one up and almost put it in the cart -- then put it back. I promised I wouldn't do it. And as I kept that promise I decided to break another one.
I spotted the gargantuan bag of chocolate Easter eggs on a shelf nearby. Website says the bag will cost you $19.50, but I got mine for twelve bucks. Such a bargain.
It's the only Easter candy around the house today. So I decided to indulge all by myself. No big deal, right?