Scandalous Cooking at Mothers

I write a lot about grocer trips.  I think it's because they're interesting places.  Or it could be that I have low humor when I enter these facilities - and witch mode is in high alert and easy access.

So I'm at Mothers, and I try to bring ingredients to make a smashing dish for one of the way too many dinners I'm there/here for.

I completely forgot to bring my cooking wine from home.  And Mother's house observes strict prohibition.  Even the appearance of any sort of ridiculously tasty adult drink is banned.  Sparkling grape juice = banned.  IBC rootbeer = banned.

AND to make matters even a tad more tricky, if the family knew a smackeral of alcohol was in dinner - it would have been boycotted.  Now I will not give in to such ridiculousness.  And so I planned my sneaky attack of the *gasp* cooking wine shopping spree.

Sneak Attack #1
Head to the local grocer in town to purchase devil juice IMMEDIATELY after work.
Sneak attack denied when I had to take a guest back to Mothers.

Sneak Attack #2
Drop guest off and run to local grocer.
Nailed it.

I crossed my fingers twice hoping I would not run into anyone I knew.  It can always be expected running around home towns and such.  And it always happens when you are looking less than a queen and smell on par with a rotting skunk carcass.

I pulled into the parking lot - looked around to see if I could catch a glimpse of somebody I knew.  Checked my booger status, smoothed my chlorine frizzed hair - and marched into the joint.

I did my own quick survey of where the cooking wine would be in the 3-aisled store, and ran into a nice fellow who was stocking shelves.  He had no idea of what I was talking about or where I would find such a thing. It was his first day.

In the mean time I kept seeing the same, but different scene play out over and over again.  Extra large parents.  Large children.  Running amok. Hollering like banshees.  Touching everything.  Running the cart through the aisles like they're a bowling ball and I'm the pin.  The whole store experience was like walking into a movie titled "Whose Mother can Yell More?".  Yes, mothers screaming, SCREAMING at their children.  Babies screaming out of sheer horror. (why are there more babies if the first 3 can't be controlled?)  Why am I even in this store?

Thank the Lord I found somebody who knew what cooking wine was AND where it was located.  I also found the new guy who was stocking shelves and said, "PSSST - (and then I held up the bottle of cooking wine and waved it around violently) aisle 1, for the next customer who wants to know!!"  He ignored me.  Which was rude of him because I told him "good luck", and he should have acknowledged my helpful attitude.

Finally got in the check-out line, tried to hide from gross leers. Was run over once from a gross leerer.  (thank you sir)  And then the worst, worst part happened.  If you know me - you know that I hate plastic bags.  I will try to avoid taking a bag at all cost.  Plastic bags make me feel crazy, the waste of all of them.  But I had to take one.  I had to hide the wicked sauce in something in order to get it into the house.  My heart hurt for the next 3 1/2 hours just thinking about the terrible waste of that plastic bag.  What would become of it?  Fish killer?  Tree killer?

When I finally got home, there was then the obstacle course of getting it into the house (not difficult) to getting it measure out (very difficult) and into the pan to reduce ( impossible).

Let me tell you, when dinner was finally finished.  And eaten.  And everybody felt like kings and queens.  And couldn't believe how insanely divine it was.  And told me all sorts of nice things - I pulled that cooking wine out.  I unscrewed that lid and danced around them all.  In a circle and saying, "you all just had wine *laugh laugh laugh* now what?! NOW WHAT?!!!!!!"

Kidding.  I said thank you and smiled awfully smugly.

Take Aways
1)  Teach your children control when they're babies so when they're 14 I won't get run over by them with a shopping cart.
2)  Number 12
3)  I did not run into anybody who recognized me - aka I performed my mission well.
4)  Don't ever forget the cooking wine from home, one less plastic bag will be floating out in the world.

Fun Fact
 Ed calls pubes - nay hair. I love that kid.