karma

I don't have very many memories from my childhood, and every time I say that my mother looks like she is about to break down in tears (so we just don't bring it up). I have a few small memories, but I don't remember a lot. It's all just scattered pieces.

As a little background, my mom is what one would consider "healthy" . The first time I watched "My Big Fat Greek Wedding", I felt a connection with the little Toula who sat down, looked at the other girls Wonder bread (RIP) sandwiches, and felt a light pang of envy as they curiously looked down at her "moose ka-ka" (or whatever non sandwich item was in my lunch). Yes, Toula- I get you. I wished I had "normal" food, too.

One of the very few vivid memories I have as a child was when I went grocery shopping with my dear mother. We were walking around the grocery store, and I was vocally silently  wishing my mother would put food like Top Ramen and crackers in our basket instead of a third bunch of kale. When we finally got to the counter, the nice clerk looked at our cart full of little produce bags and said "oh heavens! I don't think I have ever seen someone buy all of this before. Do you actually eat all of these vegetables? What on earth do you eat?!" I looked at her, sighed, and said "I don't even know".

Last night I left Robert at home to tend to his studies, applications, and more med school essays (the poor guy is overwhelmed) while I headed off to the big metropolis of Idaho Falls to do some shopping. It was just me and the Superbowler-s. They were raiding the chicken wings, beer, and cheese, and I was raiding the produce. When I got to the counter the lady behind me mumbled to her husband "I don't think I have ever seen someone buy almost only produce before. What do you think they eat!?" I looked down at my cart and pitied my unborn children.

Karma.