Fish are Not Vegetables (and other random lessons)

After we got back from our trip on Sunday, I decided to run to the grocery store (well, "run" isn't exactly the right word . . . that makes it sound like I dig it and well, I don't). As I rounded the corner in the frozen foods aisle, I spotted a hair-netted lady with some clumpy-looking samples on a tray. 99 times out of 100, samples at the grocery store are not something I can or would eat, so generally I just ignore the food sample hawkers.

"Would you like to try some salmon burger?"

Now, normally I just say, "No, thank you." But something possessed me to say this: "No, thank you. I'm a vegetarian."

Her smile faded a little. "Oh, but it's FISH."

"Right, which means it's not vegetarian."

The lady couldn't let it go, though. "My daughter was a vegetarian in college, but she ate fish."

I smiled tightly and walked away, because dissing her daughter didn't seem appropriate under the circumstances. I was half an aisle away and could hear her saying, "Some vegetarians eat fish!"

My friend Jen became a vegan about a year ago and encounters far more challenges than a run-of-the-mill vegetarian like me does. Not long ago she ordered some pasta in a restaurant and asked all the questions she needed to ask in order to ensure she was getting a vegan meal. Her dish arrived with copious amounts of Parmesan cheese on top. "Um, what's this?" she asked the server. "Oh, it's just Parmesan," the server replied. "Parmesan what?" Ohhhhhh

In other news, the kid had her annual visit with her pediatrician today. He examined her and deemed her "normal." And by "normal" I'm assuming that he meant "exceptional in every way."

After we left the doctor's office, she and I headed to the post office. I needed to mail a box to my parents and pick up an express mail package. First the lady informed me that the express mail package wasn't there because it was still riding around on a truck. I guess I didn't read the happy little "we tried to deliver your package but you forgot to quit your job and stay home to wait for it" slip very carefully.

Then I put the box for my parents on the counter. The postal lady looked down at the address label that I had printed from my computer. "You're mailing this to the same zip code?" she asked. Meaning, the same zip code we were standing in. I looked down at the box and noted with horror that I had PUT MY OWN ADDRESS ON THE BOX. "Um, nope, not mailing it," I said quickly and took the box back. I couldn't think of anything to say to account for my stupidity. I'm a secret shopper! Just testing you to see if you notice when people try to mail boxes to themselves!

You see, I used to be quite sane and organized. I really did! Ask my friends and relatives! And now I'm just a moron who doesn't understand how the postal system works. Woe is me.


Mary said…
You mean to say all these years I've been eating fish it really hasn't been from the fruit and vegetable group?? I had to laugh when I read you mailed your pkg to your self.... same here, only once so far. You are catching up to me... wouldn't say that's a good thing going for you.;)
Alabaster Mom said…
I had actually addressed the package to my dad, with his name, but my address. Not only does my dad not live at my house, he has never even been there. So the odds of him getting the box there seem pretty slim . . .
Mary said…
At least when we have Alzheimer's we should know where we live then.... or will we???;)
Anonymous said…
That's parenthood- it's sucks IQ points and energy from you. You mail packages to yourself, walk out of the house with dryer lint sheets coming out of your pants leg and a whole host of other ailments.

Thanks for the pic of A. She is the cutest little girl on the planet.

Popular posts from this blog

On Being Patriotic

Three cheers for headgear!

14 Weeks