Random Thoughts: Dead Grass, Shots, And Idiots At The Store


My wife fancies herself as some sort of backyard botanist. I’ll grant her this, she’s brilliant with flowers and plants. Grass? Not so much. The dead spot pictured above is a common occurrence when my wife decides to “Put some weed killer down.” I generally don’t give her a hard time when she does this. I’m looking forward to the day when all the grass is dead and I don’t have to mow. Better get the spreader out babe, I think I saw some crabgrass in the backyard.

Recently I took my 5-year-old in for a checkup and shots. He had to get 4 shots and it went over like, well, it went as expected. It was all fun and games for my boy. He wasn’t even suspicious when the small army of nurses filed in. We put him on the table and lowered his pants to expose his thighs. Still he was laughing and carrying on. He was grinning ear to ear all the way up to the point that the first needle broke his skin. He was staring me right in the eyes when it happened. He immediately yelped and started crying. Turns out, at that moment, he hated all of us. It was over in about 5 seconds and he cried for about 30 more. Once he had his lollipop, he forgot all about it. Until the next time.

I always choose the wrong line at the store. I’m always behind someone who either…

a. Has to write a check…. In 2016.


b. Doesn’t know how to work the self checkout.


Yesterday I was behind a woman that froze up the register trying to kill off multiple gift cards. The man working the register was lost. He was calling for his manager on a walkie-talkie while simultaneously telling the woman to please not touch anything. While the worker and the gift card woman waited for the manager, I watched several people who would’ve been behind me, ring out and leave. After 5 minutes or so, the woman offered to pay with a credit card. The register man then proceeded to cancel everything and re-ring up her stuff. At this point I’m antsy. Three more people went through the other line. Right about the time when the woman was paying with her credit card, the manager showed up. The register jockey explained the situation and the manager told him what he should’ve done. It was simply push one override button.

I hate the grocery store.



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