On a trip earlier in the week to the grocery store I got to the checkout and transferred my cart to the checker.  It was in one of those stores where the checker pulls your cart on his/her side.  When all was done I inserted my debit card and paid the bill as he pushed the cart around for me, handed me the receipt, and said:

“Hey, it looks like you got the wobbly cart.”

The “wobbly cart.”

You know, the one where at least one wheel wants to do everything but what you want it to do.

The one that makes the “rrraaattt tat ta tat’ sound all around the store as you push it with one arm or the other acting in overtime to compensate for the pull as you try to act all casual while you know everyone you pass in the store is thinking:

“Look at that poor guy, he got the wobbly cart.”

 

So on this day when the guy says “Hey, it looks like you got the wobbly cart,” I just laughed and said back,

“Yeah the wobbly cart, that’s the story of my life.”

So then he says “that sounds like a good title for a book, “Life in the Wobbly Cart.”

I thought to myself, man if he only knew the half of it.

 

I understand, in my family, we call it the Christiansen Curse.

Kim reminded me this morning that tomorrow starts Yom Kippur.

My Jewish friends and family might relate with the expression,

“Ma nishtana!”

This Hebrew saying according to the Urban Dictionary is used to express utter lack of surprise at a supposed piece of news. It’s a way of saying “Tell me something I don’t know” or “What else is new?” with a snarky urban Jewish twist.

 

 

Friday was a bad day for me.

I went in early on Friday to get a head start on cutting church grass which is pretty much an all day job.

Immediately I ran into an IT problem that is normally not a big deal but on this day it took extra time to resolve.

 

Once I got that issue squared away, now having lost an hour, I went out to start working on the property only to find my left rear tire on my lawn mower was flat.

So I went for my air pump but couldn’t find a charged battery or the charger to charge the battery.

After some more lost time I got the flat tire squared away and got to work.

 

But before I did I texted my wife “Christiansen curse day.”

 

Then to top it all off while I was mowing, I stepped in dog shhhh…..poo.

Dog Poo.

And I didn’t only just step in it I literally slid through it for about a foot.

“That’s just perfect,” I thought to myself.

 

Next, I get a text message from Alexa that said “Christian says he is sad because he misses you.”

Christian, the kid who once, while visiting him in Hollywood, Florida said, “Pop Pop I haven’t seen you in years and years,” can really put the screws to you.

Another sad reminder of the times.

 

Finally, as my day was winding down, my wife texted me to ask if I wanted to go to Carrabba’s for dinner.

I was tired and I had such a crummy day the thought of going out and relaxing with my wife sounded awesome.

I wasn’t hungry since I had eaten twice that day and of course, it had to have been leftover spaghetti and meatballs,  but hey I thought,  I will just have a bowl of soup.  And since Carrabba’s gives you that awesome bread and olive oil with spices to dip it in, I would be good.

Yeah okay, I admit it, I am one of those guys who will order a bowl of soup, get the bread, and be happy.

Because I am cheap.

Ry Cooder sings a song written a long time ago by Josh White called One Meatball.

It’s a song about a guy who only has fifteen cents to eat with so he searches restaurants and menus until he finds a place where he can purchase something to eat for fifteen cents, one meatball.

Everyone in the restaurant is aghast as the waiter calls out the order for one meatball and then proceeds to remind him:

“You gets no bread with one meatball.”

With the day I was having as I sheepishly ordered my one bowl of soup, I was half expecting the server to call out loudly:

“You gets no bread with one bowl of soup.”

 

Finally now relaxing and enjoying my bowl of soup and my bread, I open up my Facebook to find my three daughters, my three little chickens, putting me out on social media for not remembering them on “National Daughters Day.”

My final kick for the day.

Oh well.

“Ma nishtana.”

“You gets no bread with one meatball.”

That’s life in the wobbly cart.

 

 

Okay, now maybe I can get back to that book now.

“Life in the Wobbly Cart.”

Chapter One.

Let’s see, how should I start…?

 

 

Post Script:

After having basically finished this I dipped out to Lowe’s to pick up a couple of things.  I entered the store then realized I might need a cart.  I went back out and there, right next to the sterilizing station, was one cart.

I wiped it down and started my shopping.

And guess what kind of cart it was.

Yup.

“That’s just perfect,” I thought.

 

Happy National Daughters Day to Savannah, Hayley, and Alexa.

I still love you more than meatballs.

 

Yom Tov.