Eggs, milk and bread

I recently obtained a full time job. Yes, I did. I still moonlight at a couple of others but had been looking for a while to get my foot back into the corporate world. Granted, the job I finally got isn't so much corporate as it is spiritual (running a parish) but I can honestly say I love my job when I'm asked and really, how many people can say that about their jobs? Not enough, sadly.

So this new chapter has forced some changes to which we have all had to adjust but so far, so good. We are all making progress and adjusting as we should. Lately it's not my job that has been the hiccup but the daylight savings time change. There will always be something new to which we will have to continue to adapt, right?

Now, I will admit that the new schedule for me has made me somewhat more forgetful of things as of late. I used to blame that on the progression of age, but these days, I will attribute it to having to go back to work full time. After the end of next week, I will have been working a full month so I will go back to blaming memory loss on age again.

Meals are always a challenge at our house. My youngest has convinced me he can easily survive on waffles for breakfast and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner, and occasionally boxed mac 'n cheese. No matter what I make, he refuses to try it. The middle two boys don't complain, while the oldest takes the same stance as the youngest, but insists on an alternate choice. I closed down the a la carte option in our kitchen a long time ago, but the boys' dad apparently thinks they will suffer terribly and makes the youngest his pb&j's and when the oldest doesn't want sirloin tips, rice and vegetables, offers to make him eggs. Because we all know that the former is a terribly unbalanced meal.

Two nights ago, this was the scene that played out, but when G went in the refrigerator to get the eggs, he found none.

No eggs? How could that be? I visit the grocery store every week faithfully and although we may run out of ice cream or potato chips or waffles, I usually ensure that there is always enough milk, eggs and bread in the house that will carry us through to my next scheduled trip. So where did all the eggs go that I had just bought five days ago?

G's mom lives just up the road, so he actually borrowed two eggs from her so he could make our oldest his breakfasty dinner.

I still refuse to go back to the old days of going grocery shopping on the weekend, and usually go on Thursdays. Today, being Thursday, I took my reusable shopping bags and put them in the trunk of the van. When I opened the trunk, there was one lone bag, which was odd since I collect them all and put them together after unloading the groceries from the week before. But here was one bag, apparently forgotten. Inside was the carton of 18 eggs I had purchased the week before.

Thankfully, it is still winter and cold enough that they survived captivity riding around in the van all week long. Thankfully, I wasn't losing my mind because I knew -- just knew I wouldn't let us ever run out of eggs. G was the one who brought in the groceries last week. Maybe he thought the bag was empty, as it held only the eggs. Or maybe the progression of age is getting the best of him, too.

All I know is that I won't be purchasing eggs at the grocery store this week.