Somebody Please Save Me From This Messy House

                        
 I took vacation days this week. Yea for me! But not really. I took days off so I can clean my damn house. It is out of control. I cannot stand it. I really do the best that I can to keep up, but it has been incredibly busy around here and the kids are slobs and we are just so unorganized. Let's take a tour of my messy house, shall we?

That's the laundry pile right now - which is the least of my concerns because it is always like that. A never ending giant pile. 

What is all this crap on my counter? Who does that Santa plate belong to? It doesn't belong to us.

Why do we have so much cereal? How old is it? I honestly don't know. I don't remember buying them. They are all half full, by the way. 

What is all this crap? Why? Just why?

What the hell is on top of my refrigerator? I don't know, honestly. I haven't been up there in at least 7 months. I'm afraid to look. 

More crap. The fruit bowl only has one token kiwi in it. It's sad.

Why does this exist? I see that flashlight that is missing the top will really come in handy during an emergency. How smart of us to keep it around.

I haven't used any of this crap in months. Yet the drawer stays full. 

Let's not forget the stair case AKA the place where we throw all the sh*t that needs to go upstairs AKA the shoe graveyard. Instead of picking it up, we will step over the crap to get upstairs. Seriously?

Why did someone drop the toothpaste and not pick it up?

Every time I look in this linen closet, I feel dead inside.

This is the landing at the top of the stairs AKA the place where we throw sh*t that needs to go downstairs.

I think the screwdriver, lidless tupperware and juice pouch make a lovely addition to my bathroom vanity. Don't you?

What is in this nightstand? I'll tell you - my husband's college textbooks from 2004. Lord in heaven.

Why are these shoes in our closet? Throw.them.away!!!!

Now do you get it? My house isn't dirty - but it is messy. I need to just do some organization. I got started already and am making some head way. I was going through the girl's rooms and getting rid of junk. My 9 year old was all about it. She'll get rid of anything and everything. Not my 7 year old. She has hoarding tendencies. I had a bag of crap. Clothes with stains, clothes that don't fit, old shoes. She flipped out. She laid herself on top of the bag and screamed, "NO! NO! This is my stuff." I tried to speak logic into her. I took the things out. "These sneakers are gross. You told me you hate them." She looked at them indignantly, "I don't hate them and I am going to wear them tomorrow." Whatever. "What about these shoes, they don't fit you anymore." "I'm saving them." "For what?" "My children." "You think your kids are going to want these worn out shoes 30 years from now?" She thought for a moment. "Yes". Someone just please shoot me now.

I did get her to agree to get rid of 5 things. I also sneaked some things out when she wasn't looking.

Later in the afternoon, I was getting my pile of stuff ready to go to Goodwill. The kids were playing with the neighbors. All of a sudden my 7 year old walked in with a picture. "Mom, they gave this to me. I want to hang it in my room." Typical that they would bring more junk in while I am trying to clean it out. It wasn't just any picture. It was this picture:

It's a dead baby holding a french horn in a plastic frame that is trying to look like wood. Just....no. This cannot be hanging in my house. Why do the neighbors have it? I convinced her that the baby would be staring at her while she slept and that creeped her out enough to allow me to put it in the Goodwill pile. Thank goodness.

Please keep me in your thoughts as I battle the junk drawers and refrigerator today. It's hard, but someone has got to do it.

Grumpy Husband and Big Kids

                              

On Saturday morning, my girls were up early and they pulled a comforter into the middle of the backyard and decided they wanted to have a picnic breakfast. I decided to join them. I poured cereal and they wanted hot chocolate. We sat and ate and then I laid down on the blanket. The weather was perfect. Low 70's with a breeze. It couldn't have been more beautiful. I closed my eyes and listened to the birds chirp. My oldest laid on me and rested her head on my chest. "Mom, I can hear your heart beat." I smiled. " You know, you and your sister used to hear my heart beat from the inside. When you were a baby and we're crying, I would lay you on my chest so you could hear my heart beat and it would make you calm down." She said, "It still makes me feel calm." Awwwwww.

We had a busy day planned. My husband was taking our little one to a birthday party at a painting place and I was taking my oldest underwear shopping and have some mom and daughter time. We discussed this all week. My husband unfortunately woke up in a foul mood and was extremely grumpy. He decided that our previously agreed upon plans were stupid and that he wanted me to take her to the party in the afternoon and then go shopping in the evening. I was annoyed at this and did not feel like running around like a crazy person, so naturally, I protested. He said something about me being stubborn and having to always have my way and then left the house, still mad and grumpy. Whatever.

So it was just my oldest and me. I told her I'd take her to lunch and Chik-fil-a which she was excited about. We had a nice lunch together and we chatted about the school year and the summer. Then it was off for shopping time. We were walking into JC Penny and it hit me like a bolt of lightning. I had the invitation in my car and my husband has no idea where the party is AND I left my phone charging at the house. I walked up to the sales girl and said, "What time is it?" "12:33." I turned to my daughter, "We still have a little bit of time, but we need to run." We ran. Through the mall. Like shop lifters. We got in the car and off I went. My daughter looked at me, "Mom, you have panic in your eyes." I did. "Dad is probably cursing me and your sister is throwing a fit and freaking out right now." I pulled into the drive way and I saw my husband sitting in the car. I ran over with the invitation. He rolled down the window and gave me the look of death.
                                  
He said, "I don't need it. I know where it is already." "How?" "I called every painting and pottery place until I found the right one." Best dad ever. I turned to my daughter, who had a tear stained face. She wanted to confess something to me. "I called you the A-word, mom. But the real thing. I told dad you were one and I told him that you are untrustworthy." Bad Mom Award.

Off they went and my daughter and I went back to the mall. We went to Belk and approached the underwear table. There was a lady standing there with her teenage son, who looked very uncomfortable in the girls underwear section. The mom was picking things out and we just stood back. I wasn't going to pick out underwear in front of a teenage boy. The boy was embarrassed and asked his mom if they could go. He got a tongue lashing from her. It was funny because he was significantly taller and bigger than her but he cowered to her. Bad Mom Award for her. They finally left and I let her pick out her things. She was happy and felt special.

We hit a few more stores and then wrapped everything up with an Auntie Ann's pretzel. As we walked out the the mall, she reached out and grabbed my hand. She doesn't like to hold me hand very much anymore, so I savored the moment.

This is her last week of school as a 4th grader. :( She is getting much too big.

Cooperation

                        

My 7 year old has been giving me a hard time lately. She goes through these periods where she just wants to resist and push back, which is a normal kid thing BUT....
                                         
Like the other day she refused to put on her pajamas. Flat out refused. It was time for bed and she said, "I'm going to sleep in my clothes." Her jean shorts and spaghetti stained shirt. That's what she wanted to sleep in. Why would she resist putting on her pajamas? She will be 8 in six weeks. She is not a toddler. She has superior intelligence. I didn't understand it. Finally, I told my 9 year old to tag team with me and we held her down and put her pajamas on. We wrestled with her for 10 minutes. She is really strong. Afterwards, she folded her arms and looked at me enraged and screamed, "I WANTED TO SLEEP IN MY CLOTHES!!!" I was exhausted. Then, I told her to brush her teeth. She didn't argue with me about it.

That being said, why do I still have to remind me kids to brush their teeth? I mean, they are just a few weeks away from being 8 and 10 years old. For their entire lives they have brushed their teeth twice a day. You would think that it would be ingrained in their daily routine by now.Yet, I think that if I didn't remind them to do it - they wouldn't. Kids are dirty. I think my oldest would brush in the morning on her own to avoid the ridicule of stinky breath but I always have to remind her at night. Not my 8 year old. We get ready to walk out the door. "Did you brush your teeth?" "Oh, I forgot." WHAT???? How do you forget to brush your teeth? Then she goes to do it and takes forever and makes us late.

I was amused this week because she brought a letter home from school saying she was getting an award to exemplifying the life skill of COOPERATION. Bwhahaha. She must be a pod person at school.

Maybe I'm just grumpy because I got no sleep last night. We played our infamous game of musical beds. My husband went to X-Men after the kids went to bed and when I went to sleep, I had our whole bed to myself. I woke up at 3 am smushed between my husband and my little one. She was pretty much trying to pick my nose in her sleep. WTH? I got up and went into her bed to try to get some rest. My 9 year old must have sensed that I was on the move because not 10 minutes later she came in and said, "Mama, can I lay with you." So she climbed into the twin sized bed with me. I dozed off until 5:30 when the light came on. My 7 year old stood in front of us with her hands on her hips and she looked offended, "What are you guys doing in my bed?" SHE is mad about me being in HER bed? Just kill me. So, I got up and went back to my bed. "Get dressed you guys, and don't wake me up until 6:30." They kept asking me questions. I wanted to weep.

I finally crawled out of bed and went downstairs. My youngest daughter was bugging me about packing her lunch for the class picnic today. I told her I would do it after I had a cup of coffee. She just kept badgering me and badgering me and badgering me. "Mama, I need a sandwich, mama, please now."
                                           
"NOOOOOO. AFTER MY COFFEE!!!!!!!!!!" Then we heard a knock at the door, it was the neighbor's kid that we drive to school. She is in my daughter's class. She sat at the table with us and I drank my coffee. "LJ - what did you pack for lunch?" She said, "Well, I have 3 sandwiches. 2 egg sandwiches, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a juice." I began to formulate a plan. How can I con her out of one of those sandwiches? I sipped my coffee. "I'll make a deal with you. If you give me the peanut butter and jelly sandwich - I will give you a kiwi, a granola bar AND some pretzels." She thought for a minute. "Okay." She handed me the sandwich and I put it in my daughter's lunch bag. Then I delivered the goods - which was much easier than making a sandwich.

I felt a little horrible about it, but it was a win-win. Bad Mom Award for me.

My Weekend

                                             
I took my kids to the beach this weekend. They had been begging, so I said yes. Then my little one wanted to invite a friend. That meant my oldest wanted to invite a friend. So I planned a trip to the beach with 4 kids.

I'm not a huge fan of the beach. I don't hate the beach, but I don't love it either. I feel like going to the beach requires a ton of prep work. You have to pack snacks, beach blanket, towels, toys, make sure everyone has sunscreen on. It's like an hour of work before you even get into the car.

Secondly, I think the ocean is disgusting. It's full of wild creatures that could be swimming around you and you never know it. It is full of excrement. All the fish, whales and sharks are just poopin in the ocean. If that wasn't bad enough, my cousin's husband who is in the NAVY was telling me about how they dump all the human waste from the ship out in the middle of the ocean. I was horrified. He laughed, "The fish eat it, I guess." Vomit. I just can't get over it. I can't unhear that story. Also, the ocean is like a giant toilet for beach goers. Gross. There are millions of people just peeing in the ocean every year. I don't think the oceans are rising because of global warming - I think it's all the urine of all of the people at the beach.

But, I love my kids and they like the beach so on we went. We laid out our beach blanket and and the kids went right into the ocean. I followed. I walked into the giant toilet bowl water. They are dredging and the water was a beautiful blue. It was the perfect day. The kids were so excited. They splashed and played. Then they got out the water guns and one of the kids squirted me right in my mouth. My mouth was full of poo-poo/pee-pee water. I was not happy about that.

We went on a hunt to collect shells and there were a TON of dead starfish littering the beach. They wanted to collect them all. We found a shark's tooth, which was cool. The kids made a fort in the sand. It was a great day.

We packed up the car and drove home. It was a stinky ride home as we had the rotting corpses of 30 starfish in a bucket in the back. All the girls fell asleep in their sandy suits.

Then next day, I was looking forward to a relaxing Sunday. My husband was going to take the kids to a birthday party and I was going to go to a Mary Kay party. But no - there was no relaxing. My husband drove the hatchback that day. We have 3 cars and I drive my vehicle and my husband takes turns driving our other 2, but he mostly drives our small Kia. Last week, it was shaking and the engine light came on and we haven't had time to take it in, so he has been driving the hatchback. The kids loaded in and off they went. I cleaned a little and then started to get ready for the Mary Kay party. Then my phone rang. My husband was on the other end and he did not sound happy. "I just got pulled over because my brake light was out and did you know our registration expired in March of 2013? The cop said I could get my license suspended. I need you to come here now."

What the heck? I have NEVER re-registered that vehicle. I registered it when we brought it in March of 2012 and then never again. They always just would send me the bill and I would pay it and they send the sticker but they must not have sent me the bill and it totally slipped my mind. I felt horrible, like I was a criminal. How did we not realize that we had expired tags for 14 months?

I met him at the pizzeria where the party was being held. I walked in and I saw some mutual friends. She said, "Your daughter just came in and told us that you are untrustworthy." Great. My husband took my car to get new brake lights. He came back and installed them. I stood and watched. It doesn't get much trashier than working on your car outside of a pizzeria but that's how we roll. He installed the new lights and got in the car to test them out. "It's not working - there is something wrong with the electrical." So now we have 2 nonfunctional vehicles, one of which has expired tags. We walked into the pizzeria, discouraged and upset.

He ordered a slice and then we sat down at a table and said nothing. At one point my daughter left the party table and came up and said, "Are you guys stressed? Because you are both doing this:

                                       
                                                
She put her head in her hands. Yes, we were a pathetic sight.

We dropped the kids off at the skating rink in my car. On the way, the car in front of me braked suddenly - so I slammed on my brakes. "Sorry about that," I said. My husband shrugged, "At least your brake lights work and your car is registered." I looked at him sadly, "We fail at life so BAD!!!!" He took my hand and I said, "Well, there is no one else I would rather fail at life with."

Failing. We mastered it this weekend.

Middle School Problems

                                  
So guess what I did this week? Attended Middle School orientation with my oldest daughter. Middle School. Middle school in our city is 5th-8th grade, and in just 2 short weeks my daughter will be a 5th grader. Yikes! I waited at the front of the school as the buses from the elementary school rolled up and unloaded all of the 4th graders and they were ushered into the auditorium. I found my daughter and sat next to her and surveyed the room. I observed all the other parents, sitting anxiously. The principal came out and talked about the school and the programs and then the 5th grade teachers were introduced. Then these 8th graders came in with trashcans and entertained us.

It was amazeballs. Then we were assigned 2 kids to show us around the school and give us a tour. It wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. They were telling us how everything works. Fifth grade is the last year for recess and then after that there is no more fun. They change for gym. It's the middle school life. They keep the 5th graders in their own wing, which I'm happy about. I couldn't figure out if some of there kids are 8th graders or college students. I don't know what they are putting in the meat- but lord in heaven, 8th graders are 5 ft 10 and have mustaches. I held my composure through the entire thing. Until the tour was over. I kissed her head and watched her walk to her bus. It reminded me of the day in May when she "graduated" from kindergarten and all the little ones made the march from the little play ground to the big kid playground. It was just too much for me. I sat down in my car and had a good cry. The kids are only little for a half a minute. It's so unfair.

School is almost out and a few weeks ago the kids were pestering us to buy them yearbooks. I think yearbooks in elementary school are ridiculous, I don't remember having a year book in elementary school but none the less, I shelled out $40 for year books. The kids brought them home and I flipped through them. Their friends signed them and wrote things like, "You are a nice girl" , "HAGS" -which means "Have a good summer", my daughter rolled her eyes when I asked what it was. I was just glad they weren't talking about me.  There was a lot of "YOLO" written in their year books. I don't like YOLO. For the longest time, I didn't know what YOLO even meant. It seemed like something that didn't apply to me. Finally, I googled it. I typed into my search bar: What does YOLO mean? It was sad. I realized in that moment that I wasn't cool anymore. I don't like YOLO because no one says it before or after they make a good decision. This is how the term applies to my life: I should clean the bathroom, but instead I'm going to read the news. YOLO!!! Not cool at all. Totally lame.

I dug out my year book after flipping through theirs - I was feeling a bit nostalgic. People wrote some of the nastiest, most trash-mouth things in my year book, that I would never even dare let my kids see it. Terrible. And then, there is the picture. I will never forget having that senior picture done. The photographer handed me the stupid thing to wear and it was really kind of low and off the shoulder. I was like, "I think this should be higher." He said, "No, you look great." Pig. So, when you open the page I am on - you see all the boys in tuxes and all the girls looking so pretty and classy and then there is me - with the stupid dress thing halfway down my chest with an unbelievable amount of cleavage showing  - which is an illusion that I, to this day, have never been able to replicate. I look like a complete skank. I shudder every time I see it. I tucked it away - my girls will never see that thing. Maybe 55 years from now, when they are clearing out my house but not before then.

With the rate things are going, I will be getting ready for my daughter's graduation before I know it. I'll make sure the pictures are appropriate. Well, I better wrap it up. I have a house to clean. YOLO!

Mother's Day Again

My Mother's Day was a sandwich. It began and ended with turmoil, with the sweet spots in between. I woke up this morning and my 9 year old laid down next to me. "Happy Mother's Day! Can you take me to the store to buy fabric today?" She has been working on some projects lately and has been asking for some fabric and buttons. She is very talented. I taught her to thread a needle and mend when she was 6 years old. She would make little pillows for her Barbies and mend holes in her socks. She raided my linen closet this week and hand sewed a bag. I am very impressed with her abilities. Hancocks always has sales on fabric so I told her I would give her $5 to spend. She freaked out on me and insisted that I give her $20 and when I said "no way", she pouted and told me I was horrible and retreated to her bed room. Uggh. 

She did come around eventually and the kids gave me some gifts. A new wallet, some cards and letters. My 7 year old gave me a keychain that says "MELISSA" on it that she got out of the treasure box. She thought I'd like it because it was in the shape of a flip flip. haha. I thanked them and kissed them both. We played volley ball, I had brunch with my mother and family, then we lounged for the afternoon. It was time for bed and of course the girls started fighting and my oldest got hurt and they both were screaming and crying and my husband yelled. Lord in heaven. I was stressed. I laid with them both for a few minutes and they both cried and told me about how much they disliked their sister and how life is hard. I was over it.

I have been a mom for a little while now. I have survived the baby stage, the toddler stage, the kid stage, I'm living in the "pre-teen" stage right now - which I think may kill me. It's hard to believe how much time has passed. In just 2 months, my daughter will be 10. A whole decade has come and gone. It seems like a moment and a life time ago all at the same time. I wasn't sure that I had the capability to be a good mother. I was very concerned and nervous about it. She was born and they handed her to me and she seemed almost foreign but she belonged to me.

We were poor then, and our insurance didn't pay for a private room and I shared a room with another mother who delivered the same day as me. There was a curtain between us. The second night in the hospital, we were alone. Just my daughter and I. My roommate sent her baby to the nursery for the night so she could get some rest. She didn't get any rest, because I wasn't letting my baby leave my side. It was the middle of the night and she began to fuss and I couldn't get her to nurse. She would try so hard but was screaming and getting so frustrated and upset. Less than 48 hours into this whole mom thing and I was failing horribly. I laid her on my chest and I stroked her head and I talked her her. "Shhhh. It's okay. We can do this. I love you." I said it over and over again. In a whisper, to calm her but to mostly reassure myself. Finally I got her to settle in. I breathed a sigh of relief. She was finally quiet and calm and eating. I heard a voice behind the curtain then. My room mate. She was up listening to my baby crying for an hour. Bless her heart. She said to me, "I can tell by the way you talk to your baby, that you are going to be a really good mom." How did she, a poor, young, first time mom -like me know exactly what I needed to hear in that moment? Looking back, I think that was God speaking through her. I am thankful for that. Her kind words made me realize that maybe I wasn't a horrible failure after all.

I did finally get a hang of the whole being a mom thing. We were inseparable and by the time my second daughter was born I felt like I could do this. My girls are the most beautiful creatures I have ever laid eyes on. I love these girls with an intensity that is indescribable. They are the sun in my sky and the stars that shine through the darkness. They are the air that I breathe. I long to be close to them. To hold them next to me and inhale their being. I love them so much, that it's almost painful as each year they take a step further away from me. I know that for them to thrive, I have to let them but it is so hard sometimes. The years have melted away so quickly that I feel like I can barely hold on. I know that their childhood is fleeting and I feel it with an intensity now that I have not in the years past. I wish I could freeze time and stay in this moment forever sometimes.

I don't know if I am a good mother. I think it's too early to tell. But I do know that I do the best that I can. That I love them and I provide for them and try to figure things out along the way. Experience has taught me that nothing is as simple as we think it should be and motherhood is a perfect example of that. When I was pregnant for the first time I thought about all the things that I wanted my children to learn and to know and to remember and I narrowed it down to 3 things. Since my girls were little we have told them over and over again the 3 most important things are: "You are smart. You are beautiful. Mom and dad love you NO MATTER WHAT." We have said this over and over again to them and made them say it back to us since they were old enough to talk. Whenever they are having a bad day (or I am) I ask them to tell me what the 3 most important things are and they recite it back to me. I think if they grow up to really believe that they are smart, beautiful, capable and LOVED that I have done my job as a mother. I hope that one day, they are as fortunate as I have been to have children of their own so that they can know the joy that they have brought to me. 

Hot Tamales

  

I picked up the kids on Monday and they piled in the car and I asked them about their day. They chatted about AR tests and lunchtime. Then my 7 year old got all excited and said, "Mom, there is a letter in my bag for you." She dug through her book bag and pulled out a sheet and handed it to me. "We are having a celebration on Friday for Cinco de Mayo and we need to bring my favorite Mexican food." What the heck? I thought. I wish I knew about this last week before my weekend grocery trip. "What is your favorite Mexican food?" "Ummmm.....tamales. I want you to make tamales." What? "You have never eaten tamales in your life." She shrugged, "But I want you to make them. All you need is corn husks." Who does she think I am? An over-achiever? Maybe in some alternate universe. I can see myself now. In this universe, my name is Catherine or Marie or Claire. A name that is delicate and reminds you or crisp linen and Chanel No. 5. I live in this house in my alternate universe:

 

Can you see me now, in the kitchen? I would be in a floral shirt dress and a frilly apron. My hair is pulled back neatly in a bun and a strand of peals rests carefully around my neck as I lovingly hand- make tamales for my daughter's second grade class. When they are done, I line them one by one in a very expensive dish that I purchased at an excursion to Williams-Sonoma and I slide it into my monogrammed casserole carrier. I head out the door and admire my rose bushes that line the picket fence on my way to the drive. I get into my Volvo station wagon.

I turn on the radio and hum along to a Glen Miller song while I drive to the school. I walk into the school like I am walking on clouds. I wave and smile at all of my mom friends. When I get to the classroom, I serve the children the home- made tamales on special Cinco de Mayo plates. I lay the plate down in front of my daughter. She's wearing a Lilly dress and cute little yellow Jack Rodgers and has a big bow in her hair. I touch her cheek and kiss her head and say, "This is all for you, darling." She will look up at me with a sparkle in her eye and a big smile, "Thanks, mama. You're the best......"

Then I snapped back into reality. "No, I can't make tamales. First of all, I don't even know where I could find corn husks and I have to make something ahead of time because I'll be out of town on Friday." She sighed. "Can't I just buy a bag of Doritos? They serve them at Taco Bell now." That's my kind of treat - cheap, quick and easy. "No, mama." She pouted. I told her we would try to get some ideas from the internet when we got home.

We sat together on the couch and went through a ton of recipes. Everything that I suggested that seemed kind of easy, she would say, "No, that's too plain." Finally we settled on arroz con leche. That meant that I needed to find time go to the grocery store, which is never an easy feat. I ran out at lunch and went to the grocery store to get the ingredients. The cashier was ringing up everything and held up my jar of cinnamon sticks. "Did you know these are $8?" Ummm....yes. Did she think I couldn't afford them, or something? Just turn the knife, lady. I found these plastic shot glasses and tiny little condiment spoons that were so cute. All the kids were bringing in food, so it was a perfect little sample size.

Last night, after a LONG day I made the arroz con leche. I was a mess. I was wearing my husband's 15 year old faded, holey sweat pants and a bleach stained tank top. My hair was in a messy pony tail and I had bags under my eyes. I was disheveled as could be. I was trying to stir the arroz and load the dishwasher and sign homework all at once. I had stations set up in the kitchen that I was just rotating through. I stirred that crap for 40 minutes. I was soooo tired by the time it was done. I covered the pot and went to bed but knew I would need to be up well before 6 am to spoon it into the glasses. I got up before everyone and scooped the arroz con leche into the glasses. They looked so cute.

My daughter came down stairs and I showed her the finished product. "Can you sprinkle some cinnamon on top?" Sure. I went to the spice cabinet and what do you know - I was out of ground cinnamon. There would have been ground cinnamon in my alternate universe. She began to cry. "I'm sorry, sweete." She said, "Well, can we buy little tiny Mexican flags to put in there?" Give.me.a.break. "No, I don't have time to go on a goose chase for miniature Mexican flags." She threw her arms up in the air and looked at me angrily. "YOU ARE RUINING MY LIFE, MAMA!!!!!" I was like:

She stomped off. I stood alone in the kitchen for a moment and I thought to myself, You should have just purchased a bag of Doritos.

.