Today I bought a container of cheese balls the size of an end table.
The cats have been supplementing their diet with a Taco Bell -inspired "Fourth Meal", only instead of getting drive-through tacos they just wait until everyone in the house goes to bed and then throw themselves repeatedly at their food bag until it opens. Then they eat until their eyes bulge and vomit the excess right outside my bedroom door.
Which is why I bought the cheese balls. For the container, not the balls. It was cheaper and way bigger than the kitchen containers I found, and it buys us some time until the cats figure out the screw-on lid.
My intention was to empty the cheese balls directly into the trash when I got home, because they are an affront to nature, but they were discovered too quickly, and now the male half of the household is wearing a glazed expression and a coating of fine orange dust.
Once they've eaten until their eyes bulge, I anticipate they'll just vomit the excess outside my bedroom door.
Also while I was at Target I picked up some other essentials, such as a little felt purse shaped like a barn, and some farm animals to go with it. Also, two Styrofoam swords, six pairs of novelty socks, and an infinity scarf.
All of these things seemed like a must-have when I put them into the cart, which is the genius of Target, but now I am home with the cheese balls and the farm animals, and the swords, and thinking maybe toilet paper and shampoo would have been good too.
Clearly things need to change around here. We need to economize. Make a list and stick to it! Say no to
impulse buys. Even a three year old can resist a felt barn purse, so why can't I? I know this because after I exclaimed, "Oh, look! It's a little BARN!", a woman behind me stopped her cart to get one too. She handed it to her daughter, who promptly threw it on the floor and sobbed, "I don't LIKE a barn!"
So. Frugality is going to be my new watchword.
Either that or find a sugar daddy.
Which reminds me to ask you - does anyone know how much an oral surgeon makes? This is relevant.
Two days ago I drove my husband to the oral surgeon's office to get a a dental implant. After the procedure the white-haired nurse called me to the back.
"He did very well!" she said, patting him on the head affectionately. "The doctor gave him propofol! Not everyone gets propofol!"
Then the doctor bounded into the room like a rat terrier in a bandanna and scrubs. "Hey there!" he said to my husband, who gave him a stoned grin and an eyeball roll from his recovery lounge chair.
Dr. Oral Surgeon turned reluctantly in my direction.
"You must be his driver," he said. Then he turned his back on me.
"So!" he continued brightly, looking into my husband's unfocused eyes. "It went great!" He paused, and his tone grew more intimate, more....playful. "I nearly sewed your beard to your gums, Big Guy! Ha Ha!"
No response from the lounge chair.
The doctor moved in a little closer. "I have to tell you," he continued, " I got to use my biggest implant today. I don't get to do THAT very often. You could take it, because you are quite the big guy, aren't you? That jaw bone had plenty of room to seat that implant. Impressive!"
Then he leaned over and put his hand on my husband's arm. My husband looked confused, but pleasant.
I cleared my throat, and the doctor stood upright again, suddenly all business as he ran through the instructions. Then Big Guy was loaded into a wheelchair clutching his gauze and complimentary chapstick, and we were on our way.
I thought it was a harmless flirtation until two hours later, when the florist showed up at our front door with flowers for my husband. From Dr. Oral Surgeon.
I have to tell you, I was kind of excited. Maybe, if we worked something out, an open arrangement of some kind, the good doctor could help me support my felt barn habit. All the Big Guy had to do was play along.
But then the husband saw the flowers and muttered, "So that's where my co-pay went," and I knew it wasn't going to be easy.
I think if the surgeon had sent my husband an ice axe, or a polishing chamois, the outcome may have been different.
I'm pinning my hopes on the follow-up appointment on Thursday. My barn needs a litter of piglets.