By Mandy Carter
I thought it was just kids that didn’t listen. I was mistaken – and I think I might be one of the better examples of that.
For instance, I have been totally oblivious to all indications, allusions, hints and outright alerts concerning the impending winter weather. It isn’t so much that I haven’t listened as it is a failure to retain. And plan accordingly.
It isn’t like it hasn’t been all over the news for the past few days, or like no one has been discussing it openly. And let’s not forget … I work at THE PAPER, where we’ve been discussing who would cover it, who will and will not be able to make it in to work in the event of icy roads, and what county and city personnel might be doing to prepare.
Still, I was surprised when I cleverly decided to go to the grocery store and stock up last night, only to discover all of McAlester had the same idea, just 10 minutes earlier. It wouldn’t have been so sad if it didn’t happen so consistently. I’m always the last one to think to panic and raid the grocery store.
Bananas sounded good, I decided to start there. Too late. They sounded good to everyone else, too. They were gone – completely. Not one single solitary banana in the whole store.
Okay. Close to the bread, let’s get some of that.
How ‘bout some no. No bread? Are you kidding? Again, sadly, no.
It went on like that for quite a while, but the deeper into the store I got, the more availability there was.
I’ll take Things You Don’t Have to Cook for $100, please, Alex.
No.
I am still stumped, though, about what happened to all the potatoes.
We’re good to go as long as we don’t lose power. Otherwise, we’re stuck with popping popcorn one kernel at a time in the fireplace, or burritos on a stick.
Guess I’ll have to settle for Denial for $200.
One thing about constant Jeopardy is that I always phrase in the form of a question.
The ability to listen without really hearing seems to be a family thing, though, and some of us can even do it when no one is actually talking. It takes talent to be able to not really hear a text.
I texted my sister yesterday.
Got to eat lunch with the Lt. Governor.
I thought it was cool, so I shared. Know what she sent back?
What’d u have?
Seriously?
Yep. The conversation went on about LUNCH for a few more entries before the light went on.
Completely took the fun out of the whole thing.
An hour later (I’m back shopping now), I was in the checkout. I looked at my phone and realized it was getting late and no one had had dinner yet. Earlier in the day I had placed a large package of partially frozen chicken in the unplugged crockpot to marinate and thaw. There was enough for two meals, so, practicing my planning ahead skills, I decided I’d grill half for dinner and then cook the rest in the crockpot for chicken and noodles. I was so proud. I had a plan.
From the checkout, I called Mike.
Voicemail.
I left a message telling him to take half the chicken out of the crockpot and start it on the grill, leaving the rest in the crockpot to cook later.
When I walked in the door a half hour later, there was no cooking chicken odor to greet me.
“You forgot to turn the crockpot on again,” he said with a hint of a sneer.
Guess we don’t listen to messages, either.
