a little tree

I usually go grocery shopping on Friday nights because the store has less people and it's not like I'm rocking out at bars. Sad at 33 years old, I'm aware. But this past Friday I couldn't go because our fridge was packed with leftovers and it just didn't make sense to add more food. But come Sunday, when all the leftovers are gone and milk and bread were almost out, I had to go get groceries.

So, on a tangent, the hub and I have been coveting a pine tree for the backyard. I know - you're all like, huh? What does this have to do with the grocery store? Well, our grocery store had stone pine trees, small and in pots and $100 cheaper than the nursery was asking. I hemmed and hawed but didn't buy it. So this is where the story comes together - HEB had the stone pines, this time even smaller (and only $13.99), so I picked one up.



I was pretty giddy about the tree. Sure, it'll take YEARS to get over a foot tall, but it's a pine tree! And when I checked out, the cashier asked me if it was my Christmas tree this year. I laughed and said no, that I was planting it in the backyard because I really wanted a pine tree. Then it happened. Started innocently enough, really.

I jokingly replied to the cashier that if the tree didn't survive my random gardening skills, I could just use it as a Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

And the cashier looked at me with a blank stare and utter confusion.



Seriously? I'm not that old for my frame of reference to be unknown to a teenager. What kind of parents must this cashier have had who didn't think it vital that their child watch Christmas-themed Peanuts movies? No doubt the educational system failed her, big time. A little peanut in me died in that moment. Pun intended.