Stealing Foods

I cannot believe I am sharing this with the internet, but ya’ll, first of all, you won’t believe this and, secondly, this may help you on your next trip to the grocery store.

So, my husband, mom, baby and I pile in the car to go have lunch with friends (you know who you are). We have to stop by the grocery store on our way and I decide to run in and get a few items, leaving everyone in the car because 1) it’s raining, 2) getting the baby out of the car, into the stroller and then back seems like too much work at this point.

In I run, grab all of five items and get in line at the register. The line, of course, couldn’t go any slower and I seriously consider switching to a different cashier, but then, for whatever reason, I decide to stick it out.

I notice that the guy in front of me is buying spicy mustard, I think ‘yum, love that kind’ (this is going to be important shortly). In addition, he is buying other items for what looks like a cook-out or barbecue. ‘‘Yum, yum, yum,’‘ I think to myself (not that I wasn’t buying yummy stuff, but still). The cashier finally gets to me, scans my five things, takes my payment, I grab my two bags and run for my dear life because I know Hudson is freaking out in his car seat.

And here is an important note, a detail to which I am going to pay much attention from now on — I did not check my bags to make sure that all of my stuff was in there or that only my stuff was in there. I admit, I was in a huge hurry and didn’t want to take the time. I should have.

I threw the bags in the trunk, got in the car and off we went. Hudson was, indeed, freaking out in his car seat, so all my attention was focused on calming my teething baby down because I wanted to have a relatively peaceful meal with friends. Long story short, we get to the house, I go to grab my bags out of the trunk and what do you think is staring me right in the face? Glaring, really? SPICY MUSTARD. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, the very spicy mustard that should have gone home with barbecue man.

I break out in a cold sweat. Wait, what? I didn’t buy no spicy mustard. I grab the receipt to check it out because I certainly hope I didn’t pay for no spicy mustard. And I didn’t. That’s when I start feeling really bad for barbecue man. Not only did I get his spicy mustard, but I also ended up with his green onions. How in the world is the poor man going to have his barbecue?

I can just hear his domestic partner (trying to be politically correct here, people) asking him about the mustard and I can see him frantically searching his bags, saying, “I could have sworn I bought it.” And he did.

I am so sorry, barbecue man. If you are reading this, please come claim your spicy mustard. It sits in my refrigerator unopened (I didn’t return it to the grocery store because I thought my story would have been really wild plus we were working under time constraints). Do you think I should return it? What would you have done?