I had big plans for today. I've been putting off grocery shopping for so long that we literally were down to peanut butter, bananas, a half a head of cauliflower, and a huge decaying leek. So the kids and I were going to hit Costco and the grocery store hard. I sat down and for the first time in months wrote out a meal plan and coordinating shopping list. I even broke out the cookbooks so we could shake out of the spaghetti-tacos-chicken-porkchop-meatloaf rut we've been stuck in for.ever. Two hours later, after remembering the consequences of shopping hungry, eating lunch, putting clothes on the kids (in that order, please tell me I'm not the only one who's weekends look like this) we set off. I even remembered, at the last minute, to grab the diaper bag and my phone.The three of us were in great moods, none of the kids were crying or whining, and traffic was even good. Pulled into Costco braced for the clusterfuck that is their parking lot, only to find a spot, on my first pass, right in front. Seriously, there was one car between us and the door. I would've paid money for this spot. Smiling to myself because the gods were obviously smiling down on me, I started unloading my still lovely, happy, behaving children. Because I am SO organized and SO together, I thought to put my membership card and debit card in my pocket o I wouldn't have to worry about a bag in Costco. On Saurday. Three guesses where my wallet was. Yup, in my bag. My work bag. My work bag that I'd thoughtfully put away Friday night as part of my effort to keep my house looking a little less sty-ish, and so did not have to step over to leave. Which means I didn't have the visual reminder to switch out my stuff. Son of a bitch. See what I get?
Our parking spot was significantly less awesome the second time around.
I have so had that experience! Gosh, you are witty when you write.
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