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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My list is all done, I stand in the kitchen and stare. To the Supermarket I'm off, It feels like a dare. The very thought of that place, brings a chill to my bones. Walking up and down Isles with all the other drones. The parking lot is my first bad indication, as I reverse park the van causing other drivers indignation. Really everyone! have some patience if you please. They're all itching to get past, like a dog scratching fleas. I don't believe in using trolleys, a basket will do just fine. Just a few things to get. Ooh, don't forget the rice wine. Now my basket is full and I haven't quite finished yet. The milk under my armpit is all slippery and wet. Both arms are full and I can feel the strain. Standing in line at the checkout and my strength starts to wain. Squeezing a bit tighter, I just need to hold on a little more. Then that bag splits and apples dance across the floor. A kindly lady, (with a trolley!) see's that I'm in need. Picks up the apples, including the one squeezed with my knees. As this drama unfolded, I became suddenly aware. The milk under my armpit went off like a flare. When the milk was unleashed, she copped it full in the face. I quickly turned away, giving the man behind a little taste. The poor lady stood horrified, milk dripping from her hat. I couldn't help but say, "Do you want Milo with that?" Soggy groceries in hand, at home I arrived. A stoic look on my face, only I knew was contrived. The wife unpacked the bags, said, "The milk isn't here" Oh, I must have forgot, could you go back for me dear?
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