Playing Chicken with My Dinner

“What do you want for dinner?” I asked my husband.

“How about fish?” he replied.

I shook my head. “I had fish for lunch. How about steak?”

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“I’m sick of steak,” he said. “How about chicken?”

I nodded. “Chicken it is.”

My husband went outside to light the grill while I jumped in the car to go get the food. I had planned to run into the supermarket, get the chicken, and then go right back home. But when I got inside, I realized I needed a bunch of other things. Half an hour later, I checked out with all my groceries and went home…

Without the chicken.

“Ugh I never bought the chicken!” I groaned as I finished unpacking the bags. I scanned my receipt. No chicken.

“What are you going to do?” my husband asked.

“Go back and get the chicken.”

I got back in the car and returned to the supermarket, purchased the chicken, and went home…

Without the chicken.

“Oh my God! I did it again,” I sighed. “This time I remembered to buy the chicken, but I must have left it in the bag at checkout.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked again.

“Go back and pick up my chicken!”

I really couldn’t believe I had forgotten the chicken twice. I wasn’t usually that forgetful. Yes, I did forget to pick up my luggage at baggage claim once. And I also forgot to pick up my daughter from school once. And I did leave my son at Target that one time. So maybe I was a little forgetful. But based on this track record, I’d probably forget that I was forgetful so I didn’t really have to worry that it might be a problem.

Cursing all the way to my car, I went back to the supermarket to get another chicken. I showed them my receipt and explained the situation, and they let me pick another one. Then I threw it in my cart, and went home…

Without the chicken.

“Where’s the chicken,” asked my husband as I walked in the door utterly chicken-less.

I looked down at my empty hands and slapped my forehead.

“I can’t even believe it,” I replied. “I think I left it in the shopping cart.”

“Honey, do you have memory issues?”

“No. but apparently, I have poultry issues.”

At this point, I wondered if I should change our dinner plan. But I had already bought all the stuff to go with the chicken, and everyone was looking forward to it, so I decided I would give it one more shot. I got in the car one last time and went off, again, to the supermarket. When I got home I help up a supermarket bag in triumph.

“Did you get the chicken,” My husband asked tentatively when I walked in the door.

“No,” I declared. “I decided we should have steak instead.”

“Why?”

“They were out of chicken.”

Become a fan of Lost in Suburbia on Facebook at facebook.com/LostinSuburbiaFanPage and on twitter at twitter.com/tracybeckerman.

The opinions expressed herein are the writer's alone, and do not reflect the opinions of TAPinto.net or anyone who works for TAPinto.net. TAPinto.net is not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information supplied by the writer.

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