Poppy
They say it takes one to know one.
I’m a New Yorker.
I know a New Yorker when I see one.
Usually by their license plates.
So yesterday was Sunday. Normally Poppy and I keep our Sunday activities to a minimum… because we’re lazy like that. Unfortunately we had to do some unpleasant grocery shopping otherwise it would be a battle for the scraps in the garbage between me and the kitties. The shopping list had grown considerably, since we weren’t in town last weekend and we didn’t do shopping the weekend before either.
To complicate matters further, beginning today I am going on a low carb diet. After weighing myself for the first time in two years, I realized I was about 40 pounds over where I thought I was. I attribute this to two primary things: 1) I am not on a truck nearly as frequently as I used to be and 2) I’ve basically been on a seefood (all the food I see, I eat) diet for the past two years. So I decided this is something I’m going to actually do since Hilly has had some seriously awesome success with it, Britt agrees, and I got a great low carb cookbook to make meals from. I’ve done low carb before, so for me it really isn’t that big of a deal except for giving up the Dunkin Donuts large French Vanilla ice coffee, light with cream, and four Splendas in the morning.
So we had a breakfast at the pizzeria next to the Super Stop & Shop. The truth is that the grocery store, especially the Super Stop & Shop, on a weekend is a borderline torturous affair. It’s crowded, people are ramming each other with carts, kids run amok, and there is a sense of overcrowding even though the store is maybe at half capacity before the fire marshal would come in and shut them down. After a few slices of pizza and a chicken roll, we dove into the madhouse.
We made it through the produce section without too much trouble. Poppy had the list, and was bouncing from aisle to aisle while I tried to keep up with the cart. Unfortunately, I left my phasing ring at home, so there were a few times when I got stuck and eventually I found myself next to the beginning of the frozen meat section. So I perused the open freezers and decided on some turkey burgers and some Bubba Burgers. Two very easy items that I can just grill up and slap onto a plate for dinner when I get home.
As we headed down the back row of the store, Poppy told me that I was in charge of getting the meat. I’m totally cool with this, and started perusing the selection in the freezer lockers after parking the cart by a Corona stand. Then Poppy told me she was going down an aisle while I was looking, which was fine because I was still looking through the meat, and off she went with list in hand. I select my meat carefully based on a) what I like b) it’s storability and c) it’s shelf life. Finally, after what I’m sure most people would consider an inordinate amount of time in selecting meat, I chose two packages of 5 per package Perdue boneless chicken breasts that come individually wrapped (in case I want two and Poppy wants one kind of situation) and four ham steaks that were two for $5 with a use by date in June. I dropped those selections alongside the Bubba burgers and turkey burgers in the cart and then tried to figure out what aisle Poppy actually went into.
While I was standing there, the funniest thing happened. This woman pushed her cart at full speed into another woman’s cart causing a loud *BANG*. The woman who was pushing apparently didn’t see the other cart, which in all fairness was triple parked in the aisle, because she had some sort of huge box where you would normally put a child. The funny part happened when the woman pushing bitched at the woman who’s cart had been hit! She was a feisty old bag, and seemed frustrated over the embarrassment of having run into another cart full on even though in all reality… it was totally her fault. One of the guys there tried to laugh it off and made a joke, and that old bag just gave him the ice stare of death. As I was chuckling myself, Poppy came back and gave me her own ice stare of death.
Uh-oh.
She hissed something about while it’s nice to be parked at the top of the aisle, it didn’t help her trying to get the stuff. It seems the fact I had been shopping for meat had been conveniently forgotten… so I just agreed and followed. Up and down the aisles, getting this item and that item, while trying to get around people. Oh, and when people were in the way and I got stuck… I got the “look” that told me that it was entirely MY fault that the other people had their carts blocking the aisle.
Then we ended up back on the freezer/refrigerator back row. Poppy was against the refrigerator, and because of cart traffic I ended up on the other side. I got the look while she was holding the Cracker Barrel Sharp Cheddar. Apparently the cart being 6 feet away instead of 6 inches even though it was a tight ass squeeze and it was inconsiderate (because believe it or not I do try to be considerate of other people shopping while I shop) to those who might want cheese items was a problem to her. So I signaled her to toss the cheese over the heads of THE Old Bag. Then I got a worse look and proceeded to come across the back row and squeeze myself into a spot next to her, blocking the cheese items from anyone else who might want them and being right next to the Old Bag as she conversed with some associate of hers. Then, for no apparent reason, I saw the look on her face and Poppy‘s head popped. She threw down the list and pen and said, “I quit.” and walked away. Leaving me standing alone… against the cheese.
Now I’m going to be honest. I was fucking pissed. It took everything I had not to go after her, grab her by the hair, and rake her face against the high in protein low in carb tofu while squeezing cheez in a can into the base of her skull. I mean really, who needs this shit? I do not like food shopping and fighting the crowds either, ya know. Sure I try to live a laid back lifestyle at home because work can be plenty stressful… but there are home stresses you unfortunately have to do… and if you want to eat, food shopping happens to be one of them. I also really considered just parking the cart in an out of the way place and just leaving…
But I didn’t.
Because I don’t sweat the small stuff. I maintain a strict difference between something major (airplane into a high rise building) and something minor (a shopping cart 6 feet away instead of 6 inches). Of course not everyone has had my life experiences so maybe what they consider major (a shopping cart 6 feet away instead of 6 inches) and something minor (insert something more minor than a shopping cart 6 feet away instead of 6 inches) is different than my own thinking. I’ve always been the big picture looker, and while I do maintain a passionate stance on things I believe in… why bother getting worked up over something minor? Sure I’ll rant and rage about things I consider to be ambiently stupid (Amazon boycott ring a bell?), but in the end I’m not going to bed twisted over it. For fuck’s sake it’s just the Internet. There’ll be another drama or cause tomorrow, and another one the day after that… I assure you.
So I picked up the list and continued the shopping. Sure, I was shopping pissed and didn’t really care what type of mozzarella cheese or Cracker Barrel snack bars I got… but I did check the eggs before getting 8 Jumbo Grade As. Eventually Poppy came back, dumping an armful of stuff into the cart, and we silently carried on. Then we got home and there were apologies and hugs and tears and kisses and stuff because when you love someone unconditionally it’s okay when they abandon you in the cheese section of the supermarket… but that’s really not the point of this tale.
It’s not fun when a Poppy attacks… especially when it’s over small stuff.
And in the greater scheme of life… it’s all small stuff.
So about a year and a half ago, Pudding and I were discussing Blinky and her extracurricular activities… namely cheerleading. It was an activity she showed some interest in at a time when she was spending WAY too much time in her room. I am not one of these foolish people who thinks there are no injuries in cheerleading… including life threatening injuries. So in exchange for my support, the promise was made that at no time would she “fly”.
Three weeks ago when I was on the phone with Pudding about something entirely else, in classic avoidance fashion, she quickly said, “Oh and by the way Blinky graduated and is a flyer. Kthxbai.” Before I could even get the sound of a sigh past my lips she was off the phone. So for three weeks my mind wandered into this imaginary realm filled with neck braces, casts, and worse.
Yesterday Poppy and I attended the cheer competition her team, The NJ Heat All Stars, were participating in at Temple University in Philadelphia. It was her first competition as a “flyer”. Here’s a brief photo essay with a little additional commentary:
See how nice they start? Both feet on the ground? Loving this!
Ugh. Heart went to stomach and blood pressure dropped quickly as shock set in. However, this was the extent of her “flying” because she is a ”Level 2” and that limits the types of stunts they do. Once both her feet were back on the floor, I regained my composure, color, and my heart thankfully went back into my chest.
This is what the ”Level 4 Flyers” do. Blinky wants to get to this level.
Over.
My.
Dead.
Body.
Literally.
Today is going to be a busy day. There are events unfolding that have been years in the making that will dominate the day.
But I still want to take the time to tell Poppy Happy Valentine’s Day!!! She rocks my socks.
Because yes… I love her.
There is a revoluton at hand…
Yeah… it’s one of THOSE days… you know the kind… right?
