It's Your Lucky Day, Kid...I Got Your Cigs

I'm a little off today. Everyday is out of whack for us but this month, this week, today feels exceptionally out of whack.

My son woke up at 4 am ready to throw up, my other son's science fair project was due today. (It better get an A.) The dogs ripped up something in the yard this morning (it's still there.) And the kitchen sink and cabinet tops are filled with dirty dishes. Welcome to our house, where removing your shoes isn't necessary. In fact, stomping and rolling around in the mud before coming in is strongly encouraged.

So, in order to get my head on straight today, I drove to the gas station to get a diet coke. Which was my first wrong turn of the day. Starbucks would've been a much classier choice. (And as evident in the paragraph above I run a high-class establishment.) 

As I was standing in line for my diet coke, the woman in front of me was attempting to pay, only she wasn't because she was counting her money, trying to answer a cell phone, and yelling at her, what I would guess as, 5-year-old son. I wasn't entirely focused in on the circus taking place in front of me until I heard this sentence, "Ohhhh, it's your lucky day son. I barely have enough for your cigarettes." youdidwhattowho???

So, now I'm laser zoomed in. And as I'm looking at her pile of goodies which consisted of a 44 ounce big gulp, a newspaper, a container of chocolate milk, and yes her Marlboro cigarettes right next to his...candy cigs, how precious, I couldn't help but think... That newspaper must be for him. And really? Today's his lucky day. That's not good for him. Not good at all.

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