You do not take the Dingo to the store with you. Ever. Especially not a discount store.
My family has recently been forcing me to get a full medical run-down since there may be a brief gap in my health insurance approaching. I've been to the general practitioner for blood work and a check up, the eye doctor, and today the dentist. Since the Dingo was due for a cleaning also he took the afternoon off work and went to the dentist too. (Per usual, him? clean as a whistle. Me? Cavity. Ugh)
After my appointment we went to get a late lunch and I mentioned we should stop by the store because we were almost out of juice. Big mistake. Big. Big. Mistake. Huge. Because it was in close proximity we went to Dollar General. And the Dingo went nuts. I picked up both of our preferred juices and a box of cereal. So how did we walk out with six grocery bags? The Dingo! We now have a pantry full of peanut butter filled pretzels, cheese and crackers, cheese and peanut butter crackers, those teddy bear cookies...the list goes on. So, $40 later, we have juice and everything else the store sells.
On the up side, the Dingo reminded me to buy a new jar of peanut butter. Last week I mentioned to the Dingo that I must not like peanut butter anymore because while attempting to eat a sandwich I ended up throwing it up (sorry, TMI). For some reason this made him think that he would really like a PB&J (weirdo). Upon inspection the Dingo informed me that the peanut butter was two years expired!
Dingo: Doodle, you ate two year old peanut butter!
Doodle: No wonder I barfed! I didn't know peanut butter expired.
Dingo: You didn't think something with the word BUTTER in it would expire?!
Doodle: I thought it was just called that for its consistency.
Yep...I obviously never learn.
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