I’m afraid I’m going to be banned from Trader Joe’s soon. A couple weeks ago we went in and the whole store smelled like garlic (see most offensive smell in previous post). I freaked out and was yelling at Q, “Hurry! Grab what you want! We have to get out of here! I can’t handle this smell! Hurry! Hurry!” If you’d only seen me (and not all of the other calm shoppers) you would have thought the place was going up in flames.
Then yesterday we were there again and Q showed me something that he wanted to have for dinner. Apparently I said, in a somewhat panicked and overly-loud tone, “I can’t eat just that! I have to have something else to go with it! I need something else!!” The guy shopping next to us turned around and looked at me. Q was like, “I didn’t say we had to eat just this.” Crazy hormones.