Crinkle Cut Crackhead

Way way back when Connor was a teeny toddler approaching his second year of life, he didn't have much of a vocabulary under his belt. But, what he did have was animal noises. His animal of choice seemed to be the elephant. Whenever we'd ask him something and he didn't have a word to answer us with, he'd simply attach his arm to the side of his face and then swing his entire head, shoulders and attached arm skywards and shout, "IIIIRRRRRRRRRRR" in his best elephant voice. This came in quite handy for all of us. Whenever there was dead space in a conversation between two adults, Connor would approach and bellow out "IIIIIIIRRRRRRRR!". "Connor, did you push your sister?" "IIIIIIRRRRRRR". "What do you want for breakfast?" "IIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRR"

While cute, I found his piggy infinitely more so. Exhibit A for your viewing pleasure.



The reason I mention all of this is because I wish I had taken this younger version of Connor with me to the grocery store the other day - I was by myself I might add because ****LENNIE IS HOME****!! Thank GOD! [Now I'm waiting for the mild postpartum depression to seep in because I've been balancing 8 billion things in my arms, and now he returns to help carry the load and I'm afraid that instead of rejoicing that the load is lighter, like a freak I will instead have my balance thrown off, my 8 billion things will go flying into the air, and I will land squarely on my ass.] But let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? First, I have to get to work on inventing my time machine so that this strangeness never happens again:

I was at the checkout line, bagging all of my groceries in my reusable bags like a good little Earthling, and kind of off in my own personal world, when the grocery store manager tapped me on the shoulder and demanded, "Ma'am where did you get this?" He was holding up my bag of frozen crinkle cut carrots.
Of course my first response was to make sure that every red blood cell in my body got redirected to my face because that is oh so helpful. And next I chose to demonstrate my articulateness by stammering ,"Uhhhhhhhhh......what?" Damnit, that's the best I could do? Where is Connor when you need him.
"Where did you get this?"
"Uhhhhhhh.....the frozen vegetable aisle?" Nice one, jackass. Why do I feel so guilty??
"Ma'am, we don't carry these carrots. They don't exist."
"Well, you caught me. I like to smuggle in my own frozen crinkle cut carrots and then pay for them." Ahh, thank god my brain turned back on. This all could have avoided if there was a teeny toddler hopping around between us screaming, "IIIIIIRRRRRRRRR! IIIIIIIIIRRRRRRR"
Now it was his turn to stammer, "Uh, well I guess a box got delivered to us by mistake."

Woohoooo! Checkmate! Victory to me!! I'm taking WAY too much pride in this little exchange, and I'm simultaneously still stressed out by it and a little afraid to go back to that particular grocery store. This is the world I live in, people. It's a ship of insignificant victories sailing on vast oceans of akwardness.