I picked up a few things from Target the other week, while
carrying my designated “throw up” bowl.
As I tossed my “now purchasing” items on the scanner along with the bowl
(by accident), the lady tried to scan it. “No sorry, this one’s mine, I brought
it from home.” No explanation…and from her looks, none wanted.
Having to carry my goldfish everywhere, they came with me to
my Substitute Teaching training. Half way through the class I felt the need to
consume them, but also felt the guilt. You know, that same guilt that came just
as strongly as it had in 9th grade when food was forbidden in the
classroom. What is a grown adult doing with goldfish? So professional.
Scott was wondering what I had for dinner, but when he heard me
gagging, he came to meet me in the bathroom—having projectile vomited spaghetti
on the wall. #nowheknows. J
Hugging onto my beloved goldfish while standing yet again in
the checkout line at HEB, the cashier asked to scan my item. I smiled and said,
“Oh these are already mine, I brought them from home.” “Do you have a receipt?”
“Oh ya, I always keep them….” (digging through the purse; rummaging). “Sorry…I
must have thrown it away….” The waiting was scary. I have already spent more
money of my goldfish than any kindergarten classroom,—“Aww, that’s Ok, I won’t
get all bent out of shape over goldfish.” Bless you!
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