Is this just me?

coffee cupI went to the store yesterday on my way home from therapy.  Before I left for therapy, I asked, multiple times, if there was anything I needed to get at the store.  The first few thousand times nobody could think of anything, although the Boy wanted his favorite cereal (frosted shredded wheat, of all things).  Then as I walked out the door, the FYG remembered dishwasher detergent.  But that was it.  ”Are you sure?” I asked.  ”Call if you think of anything.”

When I got home and my husband and son-in-law were unloading the grocery bags from the car, my husband said, “What about dog food?”

Well, nobody told me we needed dog food.

And this morning as he brought me my coffee the Boy said, “It’s black because you are out of creamer. I used the last of it yesterday.”

It never fails.  It makes me want to gnash my teeth and bang my head against the wall.

Lately when this happens I remind myself that this is a disproportionate response probably brought on by a brain injury caused when my first babysitter abused me.

And then I go back to gnashing my teeth and banging my head against the wall because that is more fun.

Happy, optimistic people would use this moment to point out how many blessings are revealed in the above scenario:

  • We have a dog and can afford dog food.
  • We have a dishwasher and eat enough food to create enough dirty dishes to run that dishwasher.
  • We have:
  • running water, hot and cold:
  • electricity:
  • a car:
  • and access to a grocery store.
  • I have coffee
  • And a son who brings me a cup of it in the morning (most of the time)
  • I have a husband and a son-in-law (well, 3 of those), and don’t have to unload groceries or even put them away.

That’s what I think optimists would say, although probably not more than once to me because the look on my face would make them afraid to say it again.

Me? In between gritting my teeth over coffee sweetened with stevia and coconut milk instead of wonderfully chemically enhanced flavored coffee creamer and banging my head against the wall in frustration, I remind myself that:

My insurance covers therapy so I can bring this up next week.

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2 Comments

  1. Tabatha
    Posted July 15, 2014 at 9:44 am | Permalink

    I can relate to your grocery store story!! In fact, I just had that same conversation with my family today as we plan to head out later for groceries. Something will inevitably be forgotten by a family member. I am chuckling as I read your recount of how it goes in your house AFTER you have come home from the store because it happens that way at my house, too!! Oh well. I have to look at the brighter side of things and be thankful that, even though it wastes another trip out eventually, we have a store very close by to us if the forgotten item is needed desperately. :) That and also the fact that I have come to accept that the same scenario will happen again the next time we go to the store, just like a freshly mopped floor will be shortly christened by something soon after the chore has been done.

    BTW – Thank you for sharing your life – the ups and the downs. :) My prayers are with you as you continue your therapy.

  2. Amy
    Posted July 15, 2014 at 10:18 am | Permalink

    That really bothers me, too, but since my children are younger, it’s really mostly my fault when stuff doesn’t make it to the list. I’m training the 11 and 9 year olds to add stuff to the running list as they see that we’re about out of stuff, but that requires that I actually keep a running list on the fridge, and I know I have to follow up because it’s not a habit for them yet.

    I like your list of optimistic things to be happy about. Last night we had a Ukrainian couple over for dinner, and we asked how things were going for their family back at home. Their response was, “Well, it’s better than perestroika.” That’s going to be my new motto. When stuff starts piling up, I’m going to smile and tell myself that it’s better than perestroika.

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