Birthday Girl

Yesterday, May 27th, was my birthday. Since I was a kid, I have adored my special day...and the presents that it brings!

Back in the day, that usually meant perfume, jewelry, shoes, clothes, you name it. As I've gotten - ahem - older, my tastes have changed a bit. Don't get me wrong: there is still a very special piece of jewelry I've got my eye on and my husband knows EXACTLY what it is and where it is. But that's gonna have to be another birthday, most likely a decade away. No, the kind of things that inspire me in recent years bring a lot of teasing from my family. For example, a few Christmases ago I asked for a crock pot. Shut up, it's what I wanted. When my hubby askes me over and over in the weeks before my birthday, it's harder to come up with something I really want. I did try finding new earrings. Nah. I really tried to convince myself I'd like a new blingy watch, but I just wasnt' feeling it. So, you can imagine the blank look he gave me when I perked up and said I'd really like a couple of new non-stick skillets. Go on and laugh, but next time you're scraping a grilled cheese out of your rickety old scratched up pan, you're gonna think of me. The rest I told him to surprise me with. He knows how much I love Ross and TJMaxx, so that was a good starting point. He did great, because last night I unwrapped a gourmet bottle of olive oil, two chic zebra print coffee mugs, and my favorite wasabi rice cracker snack mix from World Market. To be enjoyed Saturday, I've got an appointment to have my hair colored & highlighted AND I found and bought a gorgeously shabby chic white quilt and shams for our bedroom! To me, that was a lottery win!

So, as evidenced by the above, I'm most concerned with My Kitchen and my hair. I think that is PERFECTLY normal for a Southern-bred girl. Now, who wants a grilled cheese?

"What else can happen?!"

There is truth in the old adage that you should never utter the words, "What else can happen?!" Let me tell you what's been going on with The Griswolds these past two weeks.

I woke up on a Monday morning with my left eye matted shut. Gross, isn't it? Too late--you can't unread it now, so stay with me. You know when your eye doctor sells you on 'extended wear' contact lenses, he doesn't literally mean 24/7. You're welcome...I had to be reminded of that the hard way. So, I made an appointment to have my eye treated. Until then, I had to wear my Granny Clampett glasses that I thought looked so chic. And they did...about 10 years ago. Thankfully (for the community's sake) I ordered some hip new frames. Fun, but that meant an unexpected out-of-pocket expense. "What else can happen?"

Wednesday, that's what else. I was herding the two little one toward the door for preschool and noticed the baby didn't have her shoes on. Big surprise. I walked into the den, because of course that's where they're gonna be--not in a closet. I bent over to grab them, lost my balance and may have heard someone yell, "TIMMMBERRR", because baby I fell and I fell HARD. Wrything around on the floor panting and praying, I knew I was h-u-r-t. I thought I'd broken my arm, but remembered if you could wiggle your fingers, not. I could even bend my elbow. What I couldn't do was lift my arm at all. My 4 year old fetched my phone and I called my dearest friend in town to come get me. She two-wheeled me and the kids to the urgent care clinic, where Huzzband met us. After x-rays, I was sent across town to an orthopedic surgeon: I had a dislocated shoulder! Ouch! If you've never done that, don't. It freakin' hurts. I wore that ugly patient gown across town to the surgeons office and my Huzzband teased me when we walked in, "I bet you feel waaay underdressed, huh?" Lucky for him, my sense of humor is as great as my tolerance for pain. I told the medical staff that the first person to relieve my pain was going to be my new BFF AND that I'd bake them a cake. The heavens parted and in walked a guy with a needle and a bottle of novocaine! HALLELUJAH! Once that took effect, the surgeon had me relax my arm, then with a gentle tug, popped that sucker back into place! My shoulder was gnarled up in excruciating pain for three hours before it was fixed. Now, I'm in a sling (ugly medical blue) for two weeks but who cares?! "Wow...what else can happen?"

Sunday, that's what else. You didn't really think that was gonna be it? Do you read ANY of my posts?? The baby burst into tears at lunch and covered her ear. She got hauled to the urgent care clinic (since we're like family there) and was diagnosed with a major double ear infection. Long story short: antibiotics.

Moral of the story: Never, ever, ever utter the words, "What else can happen?!"
God has a sense of humor, too, you know.

The Sam's Club police

Old Mother Hubbard's cupboards were bare, so you know what that meant: the dreaded journey to SAM'S CLUB.

Before I had kids, I was one of those people who used to love to wander up and down the aisles of SC. I'd spend pretend money in my head on this and that, I almost never needed a shopping cart, but sometimes I'd get one anyway "just in case". It was leisurely and peaceful.

Fast-forward (not quite) a couple of decades and here I am, schlepping into the door with small kids in tow. And that's when my irritation starts: "Ma'am, I'll need to see your membership card." Stop, dig through my wallet, flash the stupid card for
.01 seconds, and then I'm "allowed" to come inside and spend money with them. What?! I despise this rule. It's stupid, and it's a speedbump in my already busy schedule. It's not like we're trying to get into the Pentagon--we're just trying to get 8 lbs. of butter for $3.00. Heaven help you if you happen to arrive simultaneously as a handful of other people, 'cause ain't none of y'all going ANYwhere until you show your Card. :(

So, what do I do? I call Sam's front desk when I get home to ask why? I cannot be the only one who wants to know. The Manager was "on break", an unable to take my call, so I got to talk to a very kind lady named Patricia. I told her that I had a 'friendly' complaint and she laughed. Boy, I was ready with my argument because I had an EXCELLENT point to make: you CANNOT check-out at any register or make a single purchase without first SHOWING THAT STINKING MEMBERSHIP CARD! So, I politely told Patricia that, as a mother-shopping-with-my-kids, what an annoyance it was to have to stop 2 steps into the front door and show that card, then put it away for the next few minutes, only to have to get it out again! I reminded her that I couldn't buy anything without it, so why the double-shakedown?? She laughed, and said, yes she could appreciate what I was saying, but there was actually a good reason. "You pay a membership fee in exchange for the benefit of shopping with us. By asking everyone to present their members card at the door, it keeps out loitering people who do not have any business being in the building, and crowding up the store while you are trying to shop." Well, crap. That seemed logical. Of course I had to reiterate that I still didn't like it one bit, but that now I understood.

Anyway, that's my rant for the day. I hope I have successfully answered all your Sam's Club questions. I'll be here all week....