Today after Grandpa had finished his lunch and gotten settled in for a rest, I asked him if he was comfortable, and he said yes. "Can I make you uncomfortable?" I joked. He immediately shot back, "I'm sure you could, but I'd rather you didn't!"
Dad asked me to run a quick errand on my way home today. Now, I love Grandpa, but I don't exactly dress up for him. Today I was hoping to get away with greasy hair, no makeup, and a t-shirt and sweats - pretty much the usual. I consider having to wear a bra dressing up (which I do wear out of consideration for Grandpa). Anyway, I wasn't dressed for public viewing. I could have gone home and showered, changed, put on concealer...ha ha, who am I kidding? Of course I didn't go to that trouble. So I ran the errand and decided to get a few groceries since I was "out". My shopping trip was also going pretty much as usual - taking one bag or basket around the store, filling it up, thinking of other things I needed, precariously balancing and carrying those items back and forth from aisle to aisle as my brain popped random thought bubbles ("Dog treats!" "Toilet paper!" "Cereal!"), and refusing to get a cart because they're too cumbersome. I had just finished rearranging my items in the "Pop!" aisle (last week I did the same thing and left behind my milk - I called the store and said I think there's some milk in the pop aisle...), picked up the shopping bag, then stacked the other stuff in my arms and walked carefully to the front of the store where I remembered I also needed "Puzzles!" So I bobbed and weaved to the magazine aisle, thinking maybe I should bring in 2 bags next time, put down my bag, bent over with the other stuff still in my arms, and got a magazine. I executed that move beautifully (surprised you, didn't I?), then I decided to try it again. Disaster struck, and the cold Chinese food container I was holding slid off the box of dog treats I was also holding, and splattered open on the floor. Fortunately, I like lemon chicken, the sauce of which congeals everything into this nice handy clump that can be picked up off the floor in just a few swipes. I picked up my keys and wallet and went to the Starbucks at the end of the aisle (see, it is good to have them everywhere!), got napkins, and began cleaning up. I couldn't find a clerk nearby, so mid-clean I walked to the customer service counter and told them I'd spilled. As I walked away from the counter I realized I didn't have my wallet. A flash of panic, I stop, turn toward the counter, see it's not there, walk quickly and prayerfully back to the magazine aisle, checking the Starbucks as I power-walked by, and found my wallet where I'd left it with my groceries. It's good to live in Kansas. So I clean up my mess, anticipating but never hearing a "CLEAN-UP ON AISLE 12!!!" announcement, and take the paper towels and Chinese food and my keys and my wallet to the trash can at the Starbucks. Of course, the Starbucks trash cans have these dainty little holes in the top which are not intended for cheap Chinese food use, and I didn't want to leave my groceries and walk all over the store to find another trash can, so I tried to lift the lid of the can. The "lid" was attached to the rest of the can, which was actually a decorative cover for the actual trash can underneath. So, with all the dignity I could muster, I lifted the entire thing up, threw away the trash, managed to hold onto my keys and wallet, and returned to my items, all the while being painstakingly ignored by the embarrassed Starbucks employees, who probably thought this weird lady with the greasy gray-brown hair and ratty clothes was going through the trash looking for food to take out. I got my puzzle magazines and decided it was time to leave, unfortunately without my Chinese food. By this time I had to pee, and there was no way I was going to walk to the other end of the store and try this balancing act again. But I did remember to take my milk.
(This very Kerri moment is brought to you by the thank-God-I-still-have-my-sense-of-humor foundation.)