I Am Thinking Either Stockard Channing or Ann Jillian With Extra Time in the Make-Up Trailer

New Brunswick, morning.

Oh Good. A Tim Horton's.

Pick the line with the seventy two year old EMPLOYEE IN TRAINING.

Wonder what happened. Was she a waitress? Did her husband leave her? Was he abusive? Do I watch too much Lifetime Network?

My turn.

She is still punching stuff in.

Glances up.

Extra large, two milk, two sugar.

Coffee?

(No. A bucket of extra crispy home made recipe.)

Yes. And can I also have whole wheat toast, peanut butter and jam.

Looks at cash register.  Looks at me.

Stumped.

Calls over manager.  Manager scratches her nose ring and looks at screen.

What is it you wanted?

Toast.

We don't serve toast.

I glance at the baskets of rolls, english muffins, pitas and Croissants.

I glance at the toaster.

How are we going to solve this problem?

How about a seven grain bagel toasted?

Sounds great.

And would you like raspberry or strawberry jam?

Unanswered Questions:

1. How is putting a bagel in the toaster different than serving toast?

2. If you don't serve toast, why do you have a toaster?

3. Why is Tim Horton's whole wheat toast a regional delicacy?

4. If no one is eating toast, why do you have two types of jam?

5. If I am in Fredricton for a conference, why didn't I just go directly there instead of stopping at the Tim Horton's?

6. Who will play the seventy two year old EMPLOYEE IN TRAINING in the Hallmark movie of the same name?

Busted

Not sure whether there has been a statistically significant spike in grocery shopping this time of year but seems like wherever I go people are worrying about melting fudgecicles.

Here's the latest.

Honey can you stop on the way home and get milk.

I have a kid with me.

Great. Can you stop on the way home and get milk.

Stops at grocery store.

Gets milk.

Long line ups. (See what I mean? Everyone is grocery shopping lately.)

Dad we only have one item. We can go to the 6 items or less line. And buy five packs of bubble gum and we'd still be under the limit.

Milk + 1 pack bubble gum = 2 items.  4 to spare.

Dad why does that lady in front of us have millions of items?

The Dad (who is neither my Dad nor the Dad of any of my children) looks into the cart of the lady in front of him.

She does legitimately have many, many items. 24 items in fact.

The Dad asks the woman why she is standing in the 6 or less aisle with a 18 item surplus.

Woman says I have the same item 24 times, it counts as 1 item.

Woman also points out that store is very crowded (thought it was just me) and that she didn't want to wait in another line because she is worried about her melting fudgecicles (She is a huge liar. She has 24 cans of cat food, not a fudgecicle in sight).

Plus, the cashier only has to scan 1 of my 24 items, then press x@24 (or something like that, I'm not a cashier) so it will be quick.

The Dad and the Woman have a loud and obnoxious screaming match, hurling insults at each other in the grocery store free exchange of ideas.

Woman is completely exasperated.  AND YOU ARE HAVING THIS ARGUMENT WITH ME IN FRONT OF YOUR CHILD she shrieks.

Um, lady? says small and adorable child. Not only can I hear, but I can count.

I've Been Using This New Story For Concede, Tell Me What You Think

My Great Aunt and Uncle have had a vacation home at a beachy destination for 47 years (I'm rounding up).

5km race happens every summer.

For the past 38 years (I'm guessing) they have had one of their guests run in the race.

And for 17 of those 36 years (again with the estimating) that has been us (Me, Husband, Kids).

Every year, Great Aunt and Uncle would drive to the community centre and register us for the race.

This year, the race switched to online registration only.

Great Aunt calls to tell me that they can't register us, we have to do it ourselves.

Go online.  Race reg opens tomorrow.

Go online next day. Race sold out.

1500 spots sold out in less than two hours?

How many people could possibly have Great Aunts and Uncles at beachy destination?

14 weeks later Husband is bringing bags in from the car and I blurt out: We aren't doing The Race. It Sold Out.

Great Uncle takes both my hands in his: I'm so disappointed.

Kill me now.

Wakes up the next morning and sips his coffee. I'm still so disappointed about the race.

(Kill me again)

Husband and I go for drive and notice that community centre is a-buzz with people picking up their race packets.

Husband says Let's go in and get Them a t-shirt for their collection.

No.

Why don't you at least try and see if you can get me a number for the race?

No.

Why are you drawing a line in the sand?

I'm not. It's just that this race SOLD OUT IN TWO HOURS.  OBVIOUSLY I will not be able to get you registered for the race.

(More coaxing and begging)

Fine. I stomp over to the T-shirt area and select a t-shirt for my Great Aunt and Uncle.

And then I see a woman holding a clipboard.

She is wearing a pen on a string around her neck.

She is clearly a race organizer.

(I am like a heat seeking missile with absolutely no willpower.)

Blah, blah, blah, Great Uncle I say to her. Blah, blah online registration, blah blah vacation home, blah blah I'm very disappointed.

Well, she says, Let me see what I can do.

A few minutes later she comes over to me clutching a race packet.

You weren't going to leave here without a number, were you?  She asks.

No. I smile.

But you were so nice, she says. I actually felt guilty that I didn't give you the number sooner. I don't know how you did that. I don't even have any extra numbers. But here's one for you.

Oh, Julie. (We are now on a first name basis).

Here is a copy of my book.

Can I take your picture?