Thursday, June 21, 2012


Being a married man, I rarely notice other women.  But today in line at the grocery store there was this strikingly attractive woman...wait, I'm getting ahead of myself.

A certain family member of mine has an issue with constipation.  I won't reveal her identity, but let's just say that she's less then four feet tall.  Thankfully, a few years back, we discovered Miralax..  In fact, the sigth of the white bottle with the purple top is enough to induce multiple family members to run to the bathroom.  In my household, all is good as long as the white powder is flowing into a certain little mouth.

The idea of running out of Miralax is enough to throw my family into mass hysteria.  Thus, from time to time, I get an anxious call from my wife telling me to stop on the way home from work.  Today was one of those days.  As I perused the pharmacy isle at the local grocery store, I eyed what I like to call "constipation corner".  Next to the super size box of white magic were various salves and ointments, fiber supplements, and laxatives.

As every good parent knows, first comes constipation and then hemorrhoids.  So not only did I buy two cases of Miralax, I helped myself to some Preparation H and tucks pads.  I carried my cart of treats over to the checkout lane and placed them on the conveyor absentmindedly.  Glancing up, I was unexpectedly confronted by this goddess like specimen of female beauty (glsfb).  I caught my breath and looked down embarrassingly at my grouping of of products.

Luckily, the glsfb was fumbling with her credit card and had no interest in what some shlumpy dad was buying for his daughter's constipation.  Her fumbling became contagious, and the cashier and  bagger stumbled to transition from one customer to the next.  By the time I payed for my bag of goodies, we all stared at eachother expectantly.  I had a receipt in hand, but no one could figure out what happened to my groceries.

It dawned on all of us at the same time.  My purchases had somehow ended up in the cart of the glsfb who was standing in line at the coffee counter across the isle.  I turned to the cashier like in the movies, my body in slow motion as the words sputtered out of my mouth.


But she had already jumped out from behind the counter and was approaching the glsfb.  I followed behind helplessly. 

Excuse me ma'am, we accidentaly placed another customer's groceries in your cart.

Like she had some type of superhuman radar, the glsfb grabbed my bag immediately from the other ten in her possesion.  She opened it and peered in.  At first, I imagined she saw the white bottles and was confused, but as her face changed I realized that she recognized the tucks pads and Preparation H.  She looked up at me and smiled before cautiously thrusting the bag in my direction.

I could feel the warmth rise in my face.  I imagined my skin had turned a lighter shade of crimson.  With my head down, I grabbed the bag, and mumbled the only thing that came to mind.

My grandmother will be so relieved!

I turned and walked a few steps to the door and exited the building.

A gentle breeze blew across my face and mitigated the oppressive glare of the mid afternoon sun.


Maggie said...

This post gave me a giggle ... but you don't have to blame your grandma.

Our human household contains neither the very young nor the very old, and our diet and activity levels keep most people adequately regular in our bowel habits.

Our feline, on the other hand, approaches 17 and has become a rather crotchety old lady, subject to occasional stoppages. At first we didn't see the signs until trouble had built up substantially, resulting in the dreaded trip to the vet, anesthesia and enema (can you imagine trying to give an enema to a conscious cat? nope, me neither).

Then the vet suggested Miralax.

Now any passerby who looks at the huge white bottle in my cart hears about the cat, who persists in being perfectly fine as long as each morning's food dish contains 1/4 tsp of the miracle white powder.

Hurrah for Miralax!

Anonymous said...

You betcha!