Blog the First

April 6, 2006 - Thursday

Blog the First

Last night at the grocery store, I used one of the pregnant lady parking spots for the first time. Usually they're full as there are only 3 for the apparent thousands of pregnant Army wives on base (that's a whole other entry.) But this time there was one open, and I finally felt fat enough that I could use one and not get a dirty look from some other expectant mother who had to park in the next closest spot, some thirty spots down the row.

At first I was jubilant at getting to park so close to the door, for once. Then I had a thought. Why are the pregnant lady spots located right outside the In door? On my way in to the store, I am peppy and energetic. Somewhere between ramen noodles and Count Chocula I start to drag, and by Dairy I am positively exhausted with feet that could rival Fred Flintstone. So I get through the checkout, and then have to walk out the door, not to the convenient spot for fat bitter mothers-to-be, but to the spot that is now eight rows away. It's like someone tried to do a nice thing, but they missed the mark. Like the person who decided Crunchberries would taste just as good if they weren't red.

In a related grocery store thought, how awesome are Ring Pops? Jacob thought he could wrestle me for it but I ruled him. Kiss the rings, bitch.