Because we’re excited like kids before Christmas about the imminent opening of our new grocery store–that’s right–it’s ours, so don’t you even try anything, punk.
Nothing more exciting to us than the creaking of new shopping cart wheels down shiny, untracked aisles full of attractive goods wrapped in plastic, much like Laura Palmer. What excitement this suburban family will have now on Friday and Saturday nights…
“Cool Ranch Doritos or KC Masterpiece Lay’s, my dear?” (A small observation, if I may…if the masterpiece of KC is some smoke-flavored dust that’s likely made in Jersey before being sprinkled on chips that are likely stamped out in Mexico, KC’s got a long way to go as a city.)
“Let’s be a little crazy–let’s get both!”
“Do we dare?”
Really. Pray for 3B. Barky’s already resigned himself to being tied to dorks for the rest of his life.
But seriously, this store not only has great produce, it’s within walking distance, and it’s right next to the dog park, so one of us can pick up papayas with 3B, while the other pick up poop with Barky. Yes, once upon a time, mountain biking to the hot springs inspired us; now, convenient groceries excite us.
The only sad news is that this store does sorta’ bring down the neighborhood, since it replaces a much-loved porn theater, although it does pay homage to the past with its name, which Mama has already abbreviated to “Harris Tata.”