Gathered my wits and ventured back to Market Basket today. I’ve previously shared my opinions on my local Market Basket, so those familiar will know that it’s kind of a big deal excursion. You really never quite know what you’ll run into at the ole’ MB. Let’s just say it’s…well…it’s diverse. And crazy. I’m talking “Cabbage Patch Dolls-circa-1980 crazy” but if Cabbage Patch Dolls cost .18 cents instead of $82 dollars. You get me?
So, there I am. Bobbing and weaving and ducking my cart through traffic like Super Saver through the mud at Churchill Downs. It’s every man (or Mommy) for himself, I tell you. And, you never know when things might take a turn for the worse, resulting in a hair-pulling fight over the last “5 for $2” package of angel hair.
And, when you go to MB, you have to really go for it. Load ’em up. Because you know it’ll be a while before you recover from the experience, your memory finally lapses and you decided to go back again. Today’s haul cost nearly as much as Big Brother’s public school kindergarten tuition (don’t get me started) so you can imagine my relief as I piled my final item into my cart and headed for the check-out.
Almost made it. I can see my car from here. I. can. do. it. I will make it. Maybe with just a little help from…
Him. Yes. Him.
Jesus. At my service.
(And, yes, I took a picture. He had no idea. Really. Or, actually…now that I think about it…hmmm.)