Step Away From The Cupcakes

Last night Rainbow and I went to the grocery store to pick up a few essentials. And as we strolled through the bakery aisle attention was diverted to a small display of cupcakes.  Cake is high on Rainbow’s list of favorite treats.

There they were, six beautiful cupcakes… vanilla, with a huge dollop of vanilla icing all fluffy and swirled to perfection, and topped with colourful confetti sprinkles.  Two picture perfect desserts for each girl and myself.

“Pick me!” they called to us.  So we did.

Given that we had only a small number of items in the cart, I chose the express line.  Ten items or less, bag your own.  We’d be home and into the cupcakes in no time.

“We have eleven groceries,” Rainbow whispered to me, clearly not sure what the implications of this were.

“The cereal and milk count as ‘breakfast’” I decided.  I’m not sure she was convinced.

Then just as I was taking the amazing cupcakes from the cart to the conveyor belt, I dropped the package… cupcakes sliding about in their plastic carton.

Rainbow and I peered into the packaging.  They weren’t so pretty any more.  Definitely no longer the kind of thing you’d photograph before eating.  But still edible.  I added them to the rest of our groceries.

The clerk rang in the bread.  It wandered down the conveyer to the bagging part of the counter.  She rang in the cupcakes.  It too wandered down the conveyer.  She rang in the milk and placed it on the conveyer.  And then the milk wobbled.  And toppled.  On to the cupcakes.  Crushing them even more completely.

The beautiful cupcakes no longer resembled anything like the pretty mounds of yumminess that we originally picked up.  “My fault! Said the clerk.  I’ll get you a new pack.”

Rainbow and I smiled at our sudden good fortune.  Soon we would have our pretty treat again.

The bakery personnel came down to the cash to bring us our replacement cupcakes.  I carried the bag of groceries, Rainbow carried the treasured dessert.  In no time we would be home to enjoy our treat.

Unless of course the carrier of cupcakes decides to take a closer look and open the package just when mom turns the corner in her van.  Then it’s pretty much a cupcake toss in the van.  Perfect vanilla icing everywhere.  Her seatbelt, her shirt, my purse, all the stuff on the seat.

And, given how much we were looking forward to the treat, I was worried about the drama that would unfold.  Hunger and high expectations can sometimes result in significant drama.  Instead my little Rainbow laughed and laughed.

Because apparently the only thing yummier than perfect cupcakes, are completely imperfect cupcakes with an adventure story and a belly laugh.

I think they must see my van coming

Last night’s family class at taekwondo started at 6pm.  As it was already near 5pm, and there was still changing that had to be done, I decided that it might ease the time crunch by getting supper for the girls and I via drive thru.

Apparently “fast food” isn’t always all that fast.

First I waited in line to order, went to window #1 and paid, and went to window #2 and sat.  Finally the clerk at the window says “it will just be one minute. Just pull up behind those cars and we’ll take it out to you.”

“Those cars”… another line of cars.  So, I pull up behind the end car and all the vehicles politely skootch up a bit to make room.  One by one the orders get taken up to the windows and we pull ahead for the next guy.

When I finally get to the head of the wait line, a girl with vibrant blue eye shadow approaches my window.  “What exactly did you order?” she asks.  Beautiful.

I reiterate to the eye shadow (because really, that’s all I’m seeing) what it is I had ordered.  “Oh. Yeah.  That’s coming.”

I turned in my seat to face the eye shadow.  “This is taking a really long time. And when I pulled up here I was told ‘one minute’.  It’s a lot longer than a minute.”  I didn’t bother to mention I could have actually made dinner at home in the time it has taken so far.

“We’re having trouble with our…. (long pause) …thing” she explained.

“Ah.  The thing.”  I nodded knowingly, pretending that was a fully satisfactory explanation.

“Trees Andrew Flies” (I was positive that’s what she said).  “For your trouble.”

I really had no idea what the eye shadow was saying to me now.  Was the visual of the brilliant blue eye shadow affecting my other senses? “Trees Andrew Flies?”  I asked.

“Yes.  Trees Andrew Flies.”

“Okaaaaaay” I tentatively replied.  And the eye shadow went on her merry way arriving a few more minutes later with a bag of food.  I was not sure I wanted to open it, what with the reference to flies with my ‘fast’ food.  What if it was some retribution for requesting prompt service when they were toiling away with a broken thing?!

For your reference, in the event you should ever be asked “Trees Andrew Flies” has nothing to do with houseflies.  “Trees Andrew Flies” apparently translates to “two applies pies” … or maybe “free apples pies” because for the life of me I can’t figure out why three people would be happy about two pies.  …That’s just more trouble in the making.

For Richer, For Poorer

Last weekend the girls and I travelled to Nova Scotia for my cousin’s wedding.  For the girls, I think the trip was not so much about a celebration of love and family reunions as it was about staying in a hotel room and a trip to the mall.  As it turns out, no one was disappointed.

When we checked in to the room the front desk attendant noted that we were given a nice upgrade because the hotel was undergoing renovations.  We had booked a standard room with two double beds.  What we got was a “room” on the executive floor.  The “room” probably had more square footage than where I live.  It had a living room, kitchenette, bathroom with shower on the first floor (yes, it had an upstairs), and it had two bedrooms with private decks and another full bathroom with juccuzzi on the second floor.  And to make the weekend even sweeter, after my father had a drink with the owner, the rate for our rooms got cut even from the standard rate.  Friends, it was two nights of heavenly luxury.  Among my favourite things…

Not only was somebody other than me responsible for cleaning linens… but they did this oragami towel thing like we were really special guests or something (I’m so easily amused!).

(I think the girls are going to start expecting me to make face cloth swans or something now though)…

And also there were nice smelling souvenirs lotions and potions I would never buy myself in a million years…

And, even the loveys had to check out the juccuzi…

So now I’m thinking that if that was the executive floor, I definitely want to be an executive when I grow up.

The weekend is over and life has returned to normal now.  I’m the one cleaning the towels and folding them in squares (though I may get daring and do triangles one day).  We bathe with regular soap.  Although, admittedly, the lovey still dresses in her scuba diving clothes on occasion.

It’s back to real life and I am not an executive. In fact, other than a temp thing here and there I’m pretty much unemployed.  The job hunt continues, the rejections keep coming, and I think sometimes G*d needs a hearing aid.

But for two blissful days I was living the dream, baby.  I was living the dream.

Wordless Wednesday: When Good Mannequins Go Bad

Victoria Day

Victoria Day is upon us.  Here in Canada we celebrate the birthday of Queen Victoria on the Monday preceding May 25. Wouldn’t it be confusing if we all celebrated birthdays like that?… I was born on the fifth Sunday preceding Christmas.  I wonder how that would look on my driver’s license?

Anyway, this particular weekend will be a jolly family occasion as the girls and I travel out of province to the wedding of my double cousin.  (My mother’s brother married my father’s sister so the children of that particular aunt and uncle are my cousins twice).  I mentioned this to Dolittle and her response was… “gee… Nanny and Grandpa have a lot of brothers and sisters…. so what you’re saying is that there will be a lot of old people hugging me over the weekend.”  Yep. That’s pretty much it.

The girls are pretty excited about the prospect of two nights in a hotel when it isn’t even summer vacation (which typically consists of a night or two in a hotel).  Personally, despite knowing about this wedding for quite some time, I am surprised at how unprepared I’m feeling for an out of province journey… I have no idea what I’m wearing to the wedding, or what the kids are wearing, and haven’t even bought a card, and, and, and…  You get the idea.  Add to this that I am driving and have no real sense of direction.  Oh what an adventure it will be.  I’ll be like an explorer in a mini van.

A few observations from this week

It’s just a guess, but I’m thinking that…

- the local drug store that printed a sale flyer with “we have Mother’s Day gifts” printed above a picture of dish soap probably needs a new ad agency.

- the makers of two piece swimwear for young girls probably don’t have daughters who are pre-teen.

-  the chances of drive-thru messing up your order are directly proportional to how little time you have to go back and get it fixed.

Playing Pool

So earlier this week I took my kids to the pool after taekwondo class to totally tire them out give them something fun to do for the evening, and I sat down on the little wooden bench to watch (because swimming is not really my thing).  So, technically I suppose that I’ve just confessed to watching my kids exercise in some form or another for about two and half hours straight, while the only exercise my little keester got was from the car to the bench.  Moving on….

Now the aquatic facility has two side by side pools, one competition and one leisure.  As sycnronized swimming was practicing in the competition pool, my girls stayed in the leisure pool.  And in the end, when Rainbow decided to try a little synchronized twirling of her own (can you be “synchronized” if you’re doing it alone?) my girls moved to the kiddie pool section of the leisure pool.

It was there that I noticed them… two older women, obviously out for a little exercise.  And by “a little”, I mean about as much as I was getting.  Only they sat in the kiddie pool, never swimming, just sitting and chatting together, for pretty much the entire time my kids played around them.  Which brings me to my questions:

– Why would someone who just wanted to chat go to the trouble of dressing for exercise to do so?

– Wouldn’t a nice coffee have done the same thing only without having to endure putting on swimwear, getting wet and eventually smelling like chlorine?

– Should I be putting more effort into making my sitting look more like exercising?  I mean… maybe they’re on to something….  kind of like dressing for the job you want to get…. dressing for the exercise you’d like to be doing.  Maybe that eventually gets you slim and trim by osmosis or something?  …And wouldn’t that be fabulous if it were possible?