Bag discrimination?

I’ve been trying to bring my own bags every time I go to the grocery store lately. When I first decided to do this, I thought that I might cause some stress to the customers in line behind me, or the cashier who would be forced to turn off robot bagging autopilot. For the most part this has not been the case. People seem normal when I dump my pile of canvas and paper bags on the conveyor belt. There are a couple of things I’ve noticed, however.

1. The cashiers put MUCH more in each bag. There would be no way they would put as much as they do in a plastic bag. Sometimes they are impossible to carry.

2. When I have things like milk, I’m always asked if I want it in a bag. When I get plastic bags, they never ask me that question. They just automatically put it in a DOUBLE plastic bag.

3. They don’t carefully pack fragile items. I once found my eggs under several other things (two had broken of course).

4. In stores other than grocery stores, cashiers don’t seem to understand. They get confused. I sometimes have to remind them more than twice during the transaction that I don’t want them to put my things into one of their bags. Look, my bag is sitting right there. Just put it in there instead. Or I will. I don’t care. More than a couple of times they still put my things in a bag and then when I take it out to put it in mine, they throw their bag in the garbage!

So, what is your experience?

Poopy poop

Joseph has been into silly talk lately. It is not surprising to sit through an entire dinner of “iko iko eeena annna iko iko.” It drives me absolutely crazy. I usually try to ignore it, because any attempt at making sense of it turns into even sillier talk. He is also turning into such a boy, often talking about things like “poop” and “stinky garbage.” So it was not surprising when he told me today that I have a “poopness.” Sure Joseph, whatever. He later repeated that girls have a poopness. Sure Joseph, whatever. It wasn’t until later that I realized I probably was supposed to have had a teachable anatomy moment. It makes sense, doesn’t it? A boy has a pee-nis, so a girl must have a poop-nis, right? Here we go…

Our backyard

I don't know what is more depressing, the annoying sound of my voice begging/tricking/nagging/demanding/reminding Joseph to eat just two little bites of his food, or this...

Before:


After:


OK. Enough about the tree already.