Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Deal Breaker

There's few things things that suck me into a time trap and send me flying back to my childhood faster than the feeling of sun exhaustion. You know how it feels- after hours in the suffocating, humid air with strong sun showering whatever outdoor water activity it may have been that day. When the day turns into late afternoon and you find yourself planted on the couch, there's just a feeling. It is unmistakeable and amazing.

Yesterday, our family explorations landed us at a ghetto water park where the thermometer read 104 and the sun didn't even surrender during the ten minute down pour. It was HOT. And so we stayed in the water and swam and went down water slides that made our stomach drop a hundred feet and forced involuntary screams to escape our lungs. Epic. And after it was all said and done, and our tummy's were filled with some good Texan BBQ, I planted myself on the outside lounge chair and felt that feeling- unmistakeable yet amazing. I was exhausted and it was all the sun's fault. And water's, just to be fair.

We managed to get our equally exhausted babies in bed at 6:50. The house was calm and yet I knew I had to get myself to the grocery store. Dallin generously volunteered to come knock it out with me. Generously becomes a very skewed word when one is trying to miss bedtime.

Anyway, I got my tired self up and moving. I made the menu. I broke the menu down into a grocery list and embarked on the total nonsensical job... Of putting food into the cart. Only to take that food out of the cart to put it on the belt. So that the food can go into bags. Where the bags will then be returned to the cart. So that the cart can transport those bags to the trunk of my car, where I again unload them. So that they can make the short mile ride home where I can carry those bags to my kitchen island. Where the task of unloading that food bag by bag into their allocated place which will end the tedious task of loading and unloading the same item of food for the millionth time....finally ends.
There's gotta be a more efficient way.

(Think bank teller tubes straight from the grocery store to my house. Surely that is feasible.)
Often times thinking of all the (unnecessary?) loading and unloading of groceries is enough to tire me before the task has even begun. Couple that with the whole amazing sun exhaustion feeling and I was potentially setting myself up for heightened emotions...ie: a breakdown, a melt down, a temper tantrum. Call it what you may.

And sure enough it happened. Where, like a dramatic 3 year old girl, I came to a halting stop in the middle of the aisle. My feelings were hurt and no one was going to tell me it was for a silly reason. I was frozen and wasn't going anywhere until someone righted this wrong. 

Let me finish prepping this scene by telling you I've been feeling a lot of pressure. Not from my husband or anything...but TOTALLY from my husband. We're new in the neighborhood and thankfully lots of kids have been coming over. I commented to Yosh how it is sometimes amazing to watch them tear through the pantry and how I needed to keep up with them. Well this sent him on a mini tirade where he passionately preached about the need for me to keep that pantry stocked and stocked well. We needed to have it so that our pantry alone invited those neighborhood kids over to the house. Forget our own children and the notion of genuine friends....
It was all about the pantry.

So there's the back scene. And now we're back to my feelings being hurt. Offended to the core might be a more appropriate explanation of my feelings. I was standing in the cookie aisle and that feeling of defeat hit instantly. If I could've I would have broke down into tears right then and there. Blame it on the sun, on the water, on the pressure...I don't know which one to choose. But I would have gladly welcomed a sob fest if I didn't have my 8 year old by my side and a fortress around my heart that won't allow me to embarrass myself in a crowd of people I've never before met and probably never will.

The cause for the mental breakdown?
You want to know what it was?
You want to know what had me screaming in my head,
"Texas, this is a deal breaker. YOU HEAR ME? 
A deal breaker. And I am serious."

And you best believe I was serious.
Because for the SECOND TIME I had gone to that dang store to get Double Stuffed Oreos and they were nowhere to be found.
Take your pick of regular Oreos, Banana Split Oreos, Golden Oreos.
But Doubled Stuffed?
Huh uh.
No where to be found.
And make no mistake that that is not ok.
I was NOT kidding when I was yelling deal breaker.
I will turn my booty right back around and trek back to California before I try to bribe and spoil a bunch of kids without Double Stuffed Oreos.
Photo Cred
And that big ole Universe of ours...It must have known I was serious.
That I was not throwing out an empty threat.
Because all of a sudden, hidden in the dark trenches of Oreo Row, I saw it. Better yet, I saw them.
Two packages of Oreos, donning the signature pink accent, letting all us consumers know that the cookies inside that package contained twice the stuffing.
Double Stuffed Oreos.

I swooped those bad boys up, making sure not to leave a single package for anyone else.
For real.
I had to grab a couple runner up flavors and everyone else could do the same for all I was concerned.

I finished the monotonous job of schlepping the same piece of food in and out, and out and in, and in and out, until all 200 items were safe and sound in my kitchen. Turns out Dallin was right-- I thoroughly enjoyed his help.

And make no mistake that I slept good last night.
Because there's no problem keeping the whole neighborhood happy when there's Oreos on hand.
And it's no problem keeping mama happy...when there's Double Stuffed Oreos on hand.

{PS What are some of your go-to, charm-the-neighborhood-kids snacks?
Don't worry, we're not marketing for the same clientele so you can totally share your secrets!!!}

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