Chicken, cheese, yogurts, cereal, bread, milk… I think that’s it.
I am sure that’s it.
I reach checkout and pay. I am pleased that I completed this task without a list. I need a list to do anything these days. I reach the car, pack in the groceries and head home. I sing to the song on the radio excited to see my children after a hard day at work. I arrive home and unpack, but suddenly feel uneasy.
Where is the toothpaste?
I was so adamant to buy when I squeezed the last morsel onto my toothbrush this morning. And the squish? (Blended packaged fruit for a baby) I remember just how much my little one loves them.
Should I climb back into the hot car and face the dreaded Friday afternoon traffic? The thought of it makes me want to melt into the kitchen floor. I decide I am just going to go to bed with stale breath! Then I think of my baby girl. She didn’t forget the squish. I can’t disappoint her. I love her.
With renewed strength I grab my keys and climb into my car. I drive out into traffic and feel a sense of purpose, like a mother lion who devotedly sources food for her young. I in this concrete jungle am fending for my young.
Triumphant I return with the squish and offer it to a smiling little face with outstretched arms.
I know I have done well.
I guess I do need a list.
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