...so here's the 'thing' about the thing...

I forgot I was supposed to be getting those Sunday morning supplies, until it got to be Friday afternoon. Due mostly to running up and down the road, in my usual fashion. Which they say is acting 'like my shirt-tail is on fire.' Having spent the day on Monday with a one-year old. Having worked on Tuesday. Having went to Valdosta on Wednesday and back on Thursday. Having made a trip to Harris County and Callaway Gardens on Friday. Then: poof! suddenly it's late afternoon.

But not just any old ordinary, run-of-the-mill afternoon. It's IGIFriday afternoon. It's five o'clock on Friday afternoon. The last Friday afternoon before Christmas. When, as you might expect, everyone in a fifty mile radius, suddenly decides they need to jump on the Shopping Wagon and go to Sam's to get their bidness taken care of. It was one of those 'what was I thinking?' events.

I had not actually been in Sam's, without adult supervision (meaning my friend PC, the person  usually responsible for the weekly Sam's list, who was not there to direct me), so I was completely lost from the time I walked in the door. Pushing my cart, asking workers, shoppers, complete strangers to help me find my way. All I needed was styro. cups and creamer, (plus the stuff I told KM I would pick up for Christmas Eve) but had no idea where: in all that merchandise, I was going to find what I had on my list. It worked out  ok- all's you have to do is plead ignorance, and people will take you by the hand and guide you along.

Full disclosure here: the 'thing' is: I dropped the cookies. Literally. And picked them up, put them back in the container, and will act like nothing ever happened.  When I got home, after struggling through the crazy people who were, I suspect, just starting their Holiday Shopping Experience, I was so, so, so very relieved.

Before:

After:

After 'after':

I had to unload everything: huge carton of styro.cups, boxes of creamer, ten gallons of apple juice, and the man-handled cookies. So I could reload my little Toyo. with stuff that will be going to Decatur on Saturday morning. I confessed (so you are reading the second - and final - time) about the mishap with the cookies sliding off the bottom of the cart. He said: 'thanks, I will be careful to Not Eat any of those cookies on Christmas Eve at church. I reminded him we would not be going to CCC on Christmas Eve, but attending with family in TN. Please don't mention the cookie disaster to all those folk who will enjoy the cookies and spiced cider, even though they will wonder 'why is there an excess of crunchy sugar sprinkles on my cookie?'