2007-08-06
frozen foods smackdown
Let me tell you a little story, oh many readers whose growing masses include but are not limited to: Connie and some guy from England.
Food has been a scarce commodity in my house for the past few days due to the fact that none of us want to go grocery shopping. But since I'm neither Gandhi nor Nicole Richie this hunger strike business got pretty old after a while. So last night I gave in and went on an urgent foraging mission to Kowalski's for some basic provisions (bread, milk, Count Chocula).
While I was debating whether I wanted Blueberry Eggos or Plain for dinner (yes, yes, I know-- sometimes you have to ask yourself the tough questions), a youngish couple pushing a little kid in a grocery cart walked by. At first I was all, "oh, how cute," because that is the instinctual female reaction to things like little kids and family bonding and miniature hotel shampoos. But then the kid threw a pretty passionate tantrum, and its mother yelled back at him, and when he didn't stop she straight up smacked him. Right across the face. So then it was less cute.
I'm not sure what it is that you're supposed to do in those situations. Call social services? Slash the parent's tires? I don't know, and frankly, I was way too hungry for vigilante justice. So I just grabbed my waffles (blueberry) and booked it for checkout. But I had just watched some sort of Dateline special on how hard it was for gay people to adopt kids -- out of fear of the gay-ification of the innocent -- and that little grocery store debacle got me thinking about how ridiculous that really is.
Like, you could be adopted by a gay couple who turn out to be fab parents, or you could be born to married heteros and your dad could be an beer-guzzling Nascar fan and your mom could yell at you and let you eat food that's advertised on television. You just never know. Gay or straight, at least half of the general population are certifiable assholes who can�t manage their own lives, let alone someone else's. So, sure, you might end up gay-ified, but is that really so much worse than getting smacked around in the frozen foods aisle? It's always a gamble so you might as well let the homos throw their cards on the table, too.
zebrasaur at 8:41 a.m.
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