I stopped by the drugstore this afternoon to pick up a card for my mother whose birthday was yesterday. Eighteen dollars ($18) later while attempting to hand over my credit card to the checkout guy he asked me if I wanted some headache medicine. Was the insanity swirling around me that noticeable? He gestured to the swippy machine in front of me (as usual – my brain refuses to believe that I actually have to swipe the card myself) and before I left, with my two cards, four bags of chips, two packs of Strawberry TicTacs and four wonderfully rambunctious (and hungry) children I replied,
No thanks. I eat crazy for breakfast.
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