Writing Wrongs

December 05, 2006

So I was in the deli portion of the frou-frou department store near my work, staring at the array of whatís supposed to be gourmet stuff for lunch. I guess I was staring a little too hard, because one of the roving managers came up to me and asked, ďDo you need any help?Ē

No, Iím just staring at all the food. So I left, deciding soup from Eddingtonís would be better (six bread sticks with every takeout order!). On my way there, I passed Hallmark. Hey, I thought. Maybe Iíll send Christmas cards this year. And maybe monkeys will fly out of my nose too. It could happen. Hallmark has cards. Iíll look for some cards.

I got sidetracked by all the ornaments. What was first an anniversary tradition is now a family one. Every year, everyone gets a new ornament. I spent a few moments wondering why anyone would want to hang Lucille Ball or Scarlett and Rhett on their tree (Scarlett in her mourning garb no less, which I suppose is better than that red number she wore to Melanieís).

Of course, I was looking for princess ornaments, so who was I to judge. I must have been staring too hard at the tiny one of four princesses all sitting on their very own snowflake when a roving manager cornered me. ďDo you need any help?Ē

Perhaps I looked shifty, ready to flee with princess ornaments and pistachio pesto chicken salad in my coat pockets.

I told her no and made a quick detour to the boxed card aisle. I mean, this is Hallmark. They are cards. But the boxed kind, not so much. Nothing inspiring and Iím considering making homemade ones by scanning the Christmas tree Kyra drew the other day.

Then, on the way outside, I got clobbered not once, but twice, by the same door.

Tomorrow, Iím staying in for lunch.

Charity Tahmaseb wrote at 3:57 p.m.

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