Dear Trader Joe's:
You have won both the battle AND the war.
I cannot deal with your wafer-thin shopping bags with the handles attached by Post-It glue. I cannot deal with begging you to double-bag my groceries, with watching the face of the perky cashier (who was just raving about your delicious store-brand pear sauce!) go dark and angry when I out myself as an earth-raping double-bagger (who does not DESERVE your delicious store-brand pear sauce!), when all I want in the world is to get my groceries to the car before the handles break off and the bottom gives and the pear sauce goes splat.
I cannot quit you, Trader Joe's, and I think you know that. You know I am a hopeless yippie (huppie?) who cannot bear the thought of my child consuming partially hydrogenated oils or high-fructose corn syrup or non-organic milk. You also know that I cannot live in a house that does not contain at least one full bag of potato chips. You know I cannot live without your pizza bagels and you know my child would have a wicked case of scurvy by now if it were not for your gross-looking (yet delicious-tasting!) green plant juice. You know how I tremble in fear that you will discontinue that juice and panic every time you move it to a lower shelf or stock slightly less of it, causing me to buy three or four bottles just in case it's gone next week.
I know that you move that juice every week just to fuck with me.
Anyway. I give up. I now own your stupid 99-cent reusable grocery bags that I will carry with me to Gymboree, because THAT'S not weird at all, except on the weeks when I will forget them at home.
I'm glad we had this talk, Trader Joe's. See u next Wednesday squee!
PS PLEASE DO NOT DISCONTINUE THE GREEN PLANT JUICE EVER OH MY GOD.
PPS ALSO PLEASE DO NOT OFFER MY CHILD STICKERS. HE STILL HAS NOT POOPED OUT THE ONES YOU GAVE HIM LAST WEEK.
(To say that my life has been slightly boring -- so boring that reusable grocery bags are seriously the only topic I could come up with; so boring that you need to pronounce it borrrrRINNNNG like a shrill old-timey telephone -- would be quite an understatement. I went to Gymboree and two different grocery stores, I picked up the drycleaning, I used a coupon for paper towels and I gained 5 pounds. That is it. That is all my news.)
(Oh, and I lost my engagement ring AND wedding ring, and then while I was looking for them I found Jason's wedding ring. The one we thought was gone forever and I already replaced for Valentine's Day. Gargh. And also: I am so fucking dead if I don't find my rings, because guess who was supposed to add them to our insurance policy? A TOTAL FREAKING IDIOT, THAT'S WHO.)
(There are some totally pointless photos of my kid after the jump, for those of you who have not lost interest now that he's all big and boy now. He still melts my heart, is all.)
Lean, yet still delightfully chompable.
Watching a yane fly overhead. Yanes kick ass.
More yane-related excitement.
Plotting his sudden and eerie transformation INTO THE SPITTING IMAGE OF HIS FATHER.
Clearly underwhelmed by lunch. Trader Joe's? I BLAME THEE.