My happy place just got a little happier. I was in Costco the other day and first was encouraged that spring indeed IS coming: The bathing suits are back. Some people use calendars….I use the merchandise cycles at Costco to observe the coming and going of the seasons.
And then there’s my beloved book table. This is best enjoyed with a good cup of joe. Thankfully, there’s a Barnes and Noble (my other happy place) right next door so I can load up with a good cup first.
I was consider a large coffee table book on the Middle Ages when I saw a shaft of light guiding me toward the bananas. Then I saw it:
I almost starting doing my happy dance but since I had a “Country fried chicken wing” in one hand and an itty-bitty cup of carrot juice in the other, (I had to go past the snack ladies to get there, you know) I had to settle for a few squeals.
“Mom!!! You’re embarrassing me,” Molly hissed.
I approached the chair display- and in true Costco fashion, there were several of them. A few others were already in bliss. Except for one large bosomed woman who was, well, um, jiggling in a most alarming fashion.
I plopped my purse on the floor taking care not to get chicken wing grease on the chair and threw back the carrot juice so I could crumple the cup and put it in my purse.
We settled in and I took care not to use the jiggle setting. I opted for the “rolling pin” and was a bit startled by the chair clutching and squeezing my calves rather suddenly. Is this what the baby experiences during childbirth?
Well there’s a real relaxing thought, the other side of my personality snapped back.
Molly giggled as she played with her controls. I was confused and experienced the same distress I feel when I look at the remote control for the TV.
Then I felt overwhelmed….the thing was reclining back….my calves were pulsating while the footrest they were in started lengthening and there was something beating into my neck. Pictures from that Middle Ages coffee table book were flashing through my mind…especially the “Rack”, used to torture the unsubmitting.
Help me, Jesus! What if I start jiggling too?!
I found an “emergency off” button and pushed it, leaving a smudge of chicken grease on it. Oh well.
I hoisted myself up and out and fled from the leather beast and decided that perhaps my fantasy of having a young college man by the time of “Pedro” or “Ricardo” giving me a massage on an ocean front would be better. (He’d bring me frosty drinks with umbrellas in them too.) And of course Pedro would have to have a strong stomach to work on this body…
In retrospect…perhaps my happy place is still….just my happy place. I obviously can handle only so much happiness. Unless of course, Pedro, if you’re reading this….