Tuesday we took a break from packing to make a quick trip to Fort Collins to help my sister Jen celebrate a landmark birthday. She turned 65 yesterday, which in my estimation allows her to officially be called a senior citizen. Thus, the landmark label. Bring on the AARP and Medicare benefits.
We had a wonderful celebration involving Oregano’s Pizza and including our granddaughter Adelaide. I asked Jen if she wanted to drive, and she was quick with her no way, Jose. It was her birthday, after all, and I was treating…..
Two bellinis later…..
It was such a last-minute decision that Bill and I packed nothing more than two toothbrushes, a travel toothpaste tube that had about three more squirts in it, deodorant, our technology, and the clothes on our backs. So when we arrived back home yesterday midday, we were sad sacks. Unshaven, unshowered, wearing the same clothes we had worn the day before, and tired of being in the car. Between all of Bill’s recent doctors’ appointments, I’m beginning to consider my Honda a second home.
I decided I had enough energy left in me to make orange chicken with broccoli for dinner. And when I say “make,” I mean going to Trader Joe’s and buying the package of frozen orange chicken and adding broccoli to the mix. Our nearest Trader Joe’s is about a 15 minute drive through Cherry Hills Village, Denver’s wealthiest suburb. It’s where Peyton Manning lives. It’s also where our new QB Russell Wilson lives. I don’t know if I drove by either one of their houses. I didn’t see a sign in any of the front yards that read I’m paid $245 million dollars and Coach didn’t give me the ball at the end of the game. Thus, I don’t think I drove past Russell Wilson’s house.
Anyhoo, all of those rich people shop at that particular Trader Joe’s. I shop there often, but generally I’m not looking like a homeless person. I couldn’t help but notice all of the fit women with their sandy blonde hair tied back in a bun on which they spent a full hour making look messy. They all had on Lulu Lemon yoga clothing. The combined value of their diamond wedding rings could feed a village in Myanmar for years.
I didn’t care, though, because even though I looked like I could carry a sign saying Vietnam vet needs money for brain surgery, God bless, I love shopping at Trader Joe’s. I wander up and down the aisles dreaming of all of the frozen meals I could make from their freezer case. But I remained loyal to my commitment to emptying out my fridge and freezer as much as I could before we move. So I purchased only what I set out to purchase and nothing more. Not even flowers.
I promise a shower and deodorant is forthcoming.