Tuesday, August 24, 2010


“Mommy,” she said, “Can I have quack-quacks?”

I’m about half a grocery aisle away, but I just have to know what quack-quacks are. So I amble toward them, feigning interest in items along the way, even picking up an item and putting it in my cart, knowing I’ll be putting it back later.

“They’re in a different aisle, honey,” her mom said.

Crap, I thought. Now I’m going to have to “follow” them without looking like some stalker or weird creep. Or give up knowing what quack-quacks are.

But my curiosity and reporter’s instinct just has to know. I turned left at the end of the aisle and become very interested in … pickles. Oh well, there are enough of them that I can spend a few minutes to see if they come down or pass my aisle. I actually end up getting some baby dills. (They’re good on bread with some MiracleWhip® and sharp cheddar cheese. When my kids were young, we used to call them a cheeckle sandwich. Mmmm – cheeckle sandwiches).

A few minutes and no mom with daughter looking for quack-quacks. I hurry out the aisle and turn right this time. I pass a few aisles and spot them at the end of an aisle, looking at boxed items.

Okay, I tell myself. Hurry down the aisle but don’t look creepy. About halfway down I can see clearly enough to recognize my quarry.

Quack-quacks are …

Oh, you probably guessed what they were long before I figured it out.

Quack-quacks are … crackers.

My curiosity sated, I head to the check-out, eager to get home and have a cheeckle sandwich.

1 comment: