My independence often results in stubborn accidents.
I made it up the first flight, second and third. In the home stretch. I got to the door and….the sonuvabitch was locked. I tried knocking with some swift kicks. Time was running out. My little teeny tiny pinky (which was holding the bag with eggs) finally gave out and I hear a hideous CRUNCH as it falls at my feet.
Chris came to the door and got an eyeful: me crouched down, groceries all around, hair in disarray, egg goo on my hands.
oh no! Stupid eggs! I hate carrying groceries in... I don't know about you, but I'm not a big fan of grocery shopping in the first place. But, getting the actual food is the easy part... then you have to lug it to the car, lug it to the house and put it all away!
ReplyDeleteHope all the eggs didn't break!