I chose a checkout line and pulled my cart up. I was at the head of my cart so I could start unloading it, but I stayed back a bit from the one in front of mine. It may be early (too early) in the morning, but that's no excuse for ignoring supermarket etiquette. Besides, there was a little girl sitting in the seat and I didn't want to get too close to her. I can be mighty scary looking first thing in the morning.
"Who you?" she asked.
I looked up at her not really sure what to say. As it turned out, I didn't have to worry too much about it, yet anyway.
"I four", she held up 4 fingers.
"Mommy", she looked over at her mom. Reassured, yup, still there. Attention back to me.
"I got puppy."
"ooh, mine", she had grabbed a packet of gum off the shelf. I wasn't answering that one, not my problem, prying that prize out of her tiny fist.
"I Screffostevra". I clearly didn't quite catch her name, but she was on a roll so I let it go.
"Who you?"
And just like that I was stumped by a 4 year old. Instead of beginning an deep existential consideration (I did say it was morning, right?), I'd just follow her lead. Good plan. Well, no way was I telling her my age. I don't have that many fingers anyway. Can't point out my mommy, not today anyway. Got no puppy and not really interested in grabbing a pack of gum. Jeez, who the hell am I these days . . .
Big brown eyes zeroed in on mine. I better come up with something.
A mom? Well, of course I am, but I don't even have enough fingers to tell her my kids' ages. Ouch.
A Blogger? Yeah, I'm sure she's dying to hear about that.
A baker? A cook? Not hardly, though I do try. But I have nothing to offer her.
"Who you?" she asked.
I looked up at her not really sure what to say. As it turned out, I didn't have to worry too much about it, yet anyway.
"I four", she held up 4 fingers.
"Mommy", she looked over at her mom. Reassured, yup, still there. Attention back to me.
"I got puppy."
"ooh, mine", she had grabbed a packet of gum off the shelf. I wasn't answering that one, not my problem, prying that prize out of her tiny fist.
"I Screffostevra". I clearly didn't quite catch her name, but she was on a roll so I let it go.
"Who you?"
And just like that I was stumped by a 4 year old. Instead of beginning an deep existential consideration (I did say it was morning, right?), I'd just follow her lead. Good plan. Well, no way was I telling her my age. I don't have that many fingers anyway. Can't point out my mommy, not today anyway. Got no puppy and not really interested in grabbing a pack of gum. Jeez, who the hell am I these days . . .
Big brown eyes zeroed in on mine. I better come up with something.
A mom? Well, of course I am, but I don't even have enough fingers to tell her my kids' ages. Ouch.
A Blogger? Yeah, I'm sure she's dying to hear about that.
A baker? A cook? Not hardly, though I do try. But I have nothing to offer her.
Fiesta Quick Bread
I looked pleadingly at her mom, who was singularly engaged in paying and didn't even know I was talking to her daughter. Or maybe (been there, done that) she was pretending not to notice and internally thanking the stars above that someone was amusing her precocious daughter for a while.
I started putting my groceries up, she's four and she has a fistful of gum. She's not going to make me figure out who the hell I am in the amount of time it takes her mom to pay.
I felt a finger poke my shoulder. "Who you?"
"Screffostevra" I mumbled. Maybe she'd figure she didn't quite get my name and let it go. After all, I did, and fair is fair. Or maybe she'd think we have the same name.
Her mom grabbed the handle of her cart and started pushing towards the door. Just as they were about to leave, the little girl screeched out at the top of her lungs something that sounded a lot like "SCREFFOSTEVRAAAAAAA".
Adopting the most innocent expression I could, I looked around trying my best to deflect, to silently express "no idea who that little girl is screaming to. Certainly not me."
That morning in the grocery store there were no life altering epiphanies as to who, exactly, I am. I was, nonetheless, most definitely successful in figuring out who I am not. Screffostevra.
Fiesta Quick Bread
©www.BakingInATornado.com
©www.BakingInATornado.com
Ingredients:
2 cups flour
3 tsp baking powder
1 TBSP sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cumin
1 egg, beaten
1 cup milk
1 cup pepper jack cheese, shredded or chopped
1 green onion, chopped
2 TBSP jalapeno peppers (if fresh, seeded and chopped, if canned, I use "hot")
3/4 cup cooked corn kernels
1/2 TBSP butter
Directions:
*Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Grease a loaf pan.
*In a bowl, mix together flour, baking powder, sugar salt and cumin. Mix in the milk and egg, just until barely incorporated. Add the green onion, corn, jalapenos and cheese, mixing as little as possible.
*Spread into the greased pan. Bake approximately 40 minutes or until the center springs back to the touch.
*With a knife, move the butter over the top of the loaf, letting it melt into the loaf. Allow to sit 10 minutes before removing from loaf pan.
This looks so yummy. The perfect thing to go with soup or even a salad.
ReplyDeleteI served it with a big salad for dinner. Hope you try it.
DeleteSCREFFOSTEVRAAAAAAA might have been a nice name for your fiesta bread.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed reading your little mini-existential crisis. I'm sure Fiesta Bread is the cure for one of those!
Ha, maybe I should rename the bread!
DeleteThis sounds like such a nice bread. Pinned, for the next time I feel like baking, which may be fall.....Alana ramblinwitham.blogspot.com
ReplyDeleteI hear ya, in the 90s here today. Hope you do try it.
DeleteKids at checkouts can be amusing or annoying or a bit of both, it sucks when we have no idea what the hell the child said though
ReplyDeleteActually it was fine by me, I didn't have to wrestle packages of gum out of anyone's hand.
DeleteScreffostevra, haha!
ReplyDeleteI paused after the first sentence of this post. It is not often that I pick checkout lines these days. I used to suck at it. I was always in the one where somebody forgot to weigh their apples, or where the cashier ran out of receipt paper, or just at this very moment handed over to the next shift.
Anyway, I was asking myself "how do you chose checkouts? Clearly the ones with the shortest line are a trap."
Looks like that day the checkout found you. And you probably could have told her "my name is Karen." Simple as that ;-)))
But of course that would NOT have caused a blog post, and that would be a shame. Happy Hump Day!
Oh, never tell them your name, I would have died if she'd gone out the door screaming "Karen".
DeleteOooh! Can we call you Screffy for short?!
ReplyDeleteI guess with a name like that there needs to be some kind of nickname.
DeleteI am not amused Karen that how beautifully you come up with a blog post that reflects something from your day. I always love the idea and the awesome way (funny, hilarious) you narrate the whole conversation/ or the incident. You are so very good in that.
ReplyDeleteThis was so cute too :)
So glad you enjoyed my little story, Epsita.
Delete