To the woman whose cart I rammed into at Safeway today:
if you had simply moved out of my way before I politely asked you to do so it would have been fine.
When I finally requested (in my best Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm voice, I might add) that you move, you looked at me like I had called you names.
Bashing the living hell out of your cart was the only decent thing I could think of doing at that point.
Just be grateful it wasn't your fucking head.
Mom, wife, daughter, sister, friend. Scrapbooker, family historian, reader, cook, photographer. Volunteer. Political junkie. Springsteen fan. Loves deeply, strives daily to be a cheerful, kind and generous person. Fails regularly. Snarky, judgy and more than a little blunt. Some people don't appreciate my style. If you're one of them, that's ok. Get your own blog.
Well. There goes "Minnesota Nice" all to hell. BTW, I'd love to know more about how your mom found her voice and grew into herself. She sounds so cool!
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