I would not have ventured to the grocery store yesterday, with #3 in tow, if we had not been out of milk. But when you're outta milk, you're outta milk. I circled the parking lot until I found a spot, unloaded #3, steeled my patience and started for the door. We had not walked ten paces before I noticed a gangly teenage boy (who can tell how old they are?!?) approaching us on one of those bikes that are way too small for grown people to ride. He had one of those ugly looking trucker-type hats perched on the top of his overgrown, unruly curly hair and was sporting a black t-shirt with 'BAKED' printed on the front. I thought to myself, "I wouldn't be surprised if you were, ya
freak." (Baked, that is). I know, you are all surprised that my heart is not full of charity all the time. Well, now you know.
Normally I avoid eye contact and just keep walking when a strange person approaches me in a parking lot (especially when I have kids with me). But surprisingly, I felt unthreatened by the clown on the bike, so I was unprepared for his request.
"Can I have fiddy-cent?" Just like that. Like I was his mother. Like it wasn't even a question, just a statement.
I stammered, "Uhhhh. I don't know..... I ...."
Maybe it was because of his youth, or maybe it was because he asked for a specific amount, but for some reason without thinking I opened my bag and found fifty cents.
Suddenly, as if coming to my senses, I realized I was about to give a punk (not a poor homeless person) money, I thought to ask. "Why do you need this?"
He answered flatly, "I just need fifty more cents so I can get the foot long at Subway."
I handed him the change and I couldn't help but laugh as I watched his puffy hair and precariously balanced hat bob away on his child-bike through the parking lot. What nerve! What genius! What an original idea!
Inspired by little-bike, clown hair dude I have discovered how I'm going to pad our Christmas budget this year:
1) Ask people for money
a) in specific, small increments
b) tell them what it's for (a digital camera for my daughter's Christmas present)
c) don't beg, plead or even appear to need help
d) expect them to hand it over
To my interstate, intercity and international readers, please feel free to use my proven method for lining your pockets. But for those of you in my zip code, beware. There's only room for one middle-class, mom beggar in this town and that Fry's parking lot is mine!
Cornbread drying for the stuffing. I grew up eating cornbread stuffing and Thanksgiving just isn't right using regular bread crumbs.
Apple pie with crumb topping
The before the feast, feast. Only kids and stuffed animals invited.
All my food, displayed for your viewing pleasure.
Yes, that is #2 tearing into a turkey leg.
Not to be outdone, #1 claimed a leg.
5 hours of cooking. 20 minutes of eating. 60 minutes of cleaning.
While we were cleaning up, #3, 2 and 1 were making a fort in #2's closet. As a child I remember getting into all kinds of mischief during that restless period of time between the turkey and the pie, while the adults were oblivious chatting and cleaning up.
