As I was pacing the floor, trying to help Bubba drift off into lala land for the night, I had an epiphany. And for some reason it just made me giddy, maybe because today I’ve been a walking/talking zombie, or maybe because it’s actually super awesome. I realized that the acronym for my blog is R.O.A.R. How primal is that! Ah, the pleasantries of life.
Anyway, here on ROAR I’ve decided to start a new series entitled Have You Ever? wherein I will relay a situation or occurrence to see if it’s ever happened to you, to see if some other soul out there has been there, and done that. The story may or may not be based upon my own personal experience (who am I kidding, of course it will). So today I pose the question:
Have you ever come home after shopping, dropped your treasure filled bags on the floor, and hightailed it to the freezer for some ice cream? Then the next morning, with a renewed energy, you begin to unbag everything and put the goods in their proper place. In the process you find that something is missing, a certain something that cost enough money to make your stomach turn. Why does this seem to always happen to me, you ask, looking up towards the heavens. Why do I always seem to get the inept baggers of the world?
You postpone telling the Husband because this will surely cause him to pass a kidney stone right on the spot. So you look again, and again, rummaging through each bag, retracing your steps, sniffing for a trail, checking the most insane places like the toilet, the refrigerator, the mailbox. All to no avail.
You are going to have to go back to the store and CONFRONT someone. Such a nasty word. And you are going to have to tell the Husband. His reaction is as expected, only with the added bonus of Why does this always happen to us. Your thoughts exactly.
So you march into the store, head held high, confident that a solution can be reached. You tell the nice customer service lady your tale of woe, and she goes through all the necessary protocol. Everything is coming up empty though. You assure her that you looked through each bag thoroughly. Unfortunately for you, this employee holds no authority whatsoever, so your charms are wasted since the all-powerful voice on the other end of the walkie-talkie isn’t actually there to bask in your effervescence. The final verdict issued via walkie-talkie is that security tapes will have to be viewed, but that can’t be done until Monday. You will have to call this number, and speak with so-and-so, and then they will hunker down in this dark room watching video from the exact spot and time you made your purchase. You realize they may see more than your misplaced item, like your child picking his nose, and you ‘discreetly’ picking your wedge. You wonder if the scrutiny is even worth it.
You drive home dejected and hightail it to the freezer again. Out of pure craziness you look through the bags one more time, just to reassure yourself. Bag one, nothing. Bag two, nothing. Then out of no where something falls from the sky and lands in your lap. Okay. Maybe it just fell out of bag three, but either way, your missing purchase is no longer missing . . . and you feel sheepish. And all you can think is Good thing I didn’t grab that lady by her collar, drag her over the counter, and make her sniff carpet like you envisioned yourself doing.
Well, dear readers, have you ever?