Monday. Cold. Sunny. The normal opening around here is now covered in Readers Digest condensed version.
Opening day for the Cubs. Will the lovable losers break out and win it all for the first time since 1908? I hope so, but I doubt it. The weight of expectations was too much in 1969 and in 1984 and especially in 2003. I am prepared to be disappointed. You might say I am optimistically pessimistic.
My granddaughter has a cold that has settled into her chest. She is 16 months old, so there is not much in the way of medicine she can take. Yesterday, my daughter and granddaughter ventured out to the grocery. The went to the posh market that refuses to sell partial foods. There my daughter encountered the original entitled rich bitch. I will relate the tale as it was described by my daughter:
The ERB pulls up behind my daughter in line. Daughter had a full cart.
ERB: oh my god look at her cart. She must have gotten her food stamps
Note, my daughter lives in a swanky suburb. She is a school principal, her husband a VP of a company. She does not look like, or dress like white trash.
Sweet innocent baby in cart(BIC): cough
ERB: oh my god that thing is sick. It will contaminate everyone.
ERB: Can't you teach it manners? Make it cover its mouth.
Daughter: she is a baby,
ERB: it is disgusting.
BIC: cough ( Daughter covers babies mouth)
ERB: NOW YOU ARE GOING TO GET GERMS EVERYWHERE. I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU LET THAT CHILD SPIT GERMS ON YOU.
HUSBAND OF ERB: it is OK, calm down.
Other customers staring at crazy woman
ERB: You should not bring that...in public. This is just disgusting.
ERB: I am going to a different line.
Me, I would have wiped my hands on her food. But I am an ass.