Update: I buy my t-shirts in the grocery store now

I've never been an overly fashionable person. I remember after Millie was born I struggled with the question all first time parents ask themselves-- can I wear jeggings now that I'm a mom? Or, did the birth of my first child somehow lock me into the clothing I already owned, barring my access from all future fashion trends? Could I indeed wear jeggings in 2013? Reader, I tell you I could.

But now, after the birth of my son in 2017, I am older and wiser. I find myself liberated from the pangs of uncertainty regarding my wardrobe. I am living back in the south,  I am operating on very little sleep, and I WILL WEAR WHATEVER GARMENT MOST EASILY ALLOWS ME TO TAKE MY BOOBS OUT IN THIS BOJANGLES. * **Period.
*To breastfeed, of course
** #freebojangles tho

Tonight, I reached new levels of relaxation, when I bought some high quality ladies' apparel in my local Kroger grocery. Naturally, I had waited until both of my children were asleep to go grocery shopping, because-- and I say this with love-- children are monsters.  Earlier today, I had failed to buy a carving pumpkin at the Fresh Market because Ben would not stop screaming.  Most likely, he was simply outraged at the price of artisanal pumpkins, but he elevated his concern to such levels that I could no longer focus on my grocery list. We walked out of the store, which probably saved me from buying a $15.00 jar of imported capers.

This evening I trotted through Kroger, hunting after the items I had failed to buy this afternoon. In the middle of the candy isle I saw it-- a giant display of star wars t-shirts. Hold the phone. I said to myself. I can buy clothes in the grocery store now? IS IT SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE TO BUY MY SHIRTS IN THE KROGER? I asked myself? No of course not. WOULD OBI WAN KENOBI HAVE DONE IT? Yes. Absolutely. I think i can say with 100% certainty that Obi Wan Kenobi would buy all of his shirts at the grocery store, because Jedi's don't have time to fuck around with driving to Kohls.

So, I grabbed the t-shirt and bought it. It's an awesome find, featuring a picture of Chewbacca with a caption that reads "Wookie Of The Year." Hahahaha! Even as I type that I am cracking up. Whoever made this shirt is a marketing genius, and the folks at Disney's apparel wing are not paying them enough. 

Seriously, give this person a raise.

 Anyways, thanks to whoever made this shirt, and had the vision and leadership to broker a merchandising deal with Kroger.  You are a model of corporate innovation. My only complaint is that the cut of this shirt favors a 13 year old boy, (undoubtedly your target audience.) As of the time of writing, I have taken a pair of scissors to the t-shirt, in order to give myself easier access to breastfeeding in the bojangles.

The Grapefruit I Will Never Eat

There's a grapefruit on my kitchen counter and it's reminding me of all my inadequacies as a parent. I should have fucking known better.  I should have learned by now not to buy fruit that can't be consumed one-handed.  I am a mom.  I cannot reasonably be expected to get out a bowl, peel a piece of fruit, divide it into edible pieces, separate the fruit from the nasty skin, eat it, and then wipe my hands WITH A NAPKIN of all things.  Can you imagine? A NAPKIN. Christ what was I thinking?

I knew better in the grocery store.  I knew I should have gone with bananas or something.  Or apples. You can't go wrong with apples.  You can eat them one handed AND you can cut them up to take to the playground as a snack.  Oh JESUS I am out of apples and I am about to take my kids to the playground.  I have a mutiny on my hands. I guess I could pack up this grapefruit, but OH WAIT THAT WILL NEVER WORK.

I will never, ever eat this.

You know what?  I'm just going to throw this thing away.  It's taunting me, and making me feel undue pressure. I will try again in another year.  When I am not breastfeeding, I will have the capacity to peel and eat citrus without having to enlist childcare services. It's probably all shriveled up inside anyways.

Actually, now that I think of it, I could probably send it to work with Sean.  I bet at his office people have free usage of both of their hands, and can peel grapefruits as they please. Those bastards. They probably just sit around eating tropical tree fruits like anything. I bet they are scarfing down kumquats between their conference calls over there. Curse them.  Curse them all.  They do not deserve this grapefruit.

Nope, there is only one course of action.  I will keep my grapefruit--my sweet bauble of ambrosia--on my counter.  There I will dream.  There it will rot. I will keep it there until it becomes green with mold. One day, both my children will be sleeping at the same time and I will go to eat it.  Then, I will discover the mold and throw it out.  Eventually, I'll eat one of the sensible apples I just bought at the store.

This is my life now.