Just to my right I noticed the little hot stand of market chickens. You know, the chickens that they roast or broast or whatever they do to them there in the store kitchen. They're always so juicy and tender and yummy. I love market chickens! I made my choice of the biggest and juiciest looking one, grabbed it by the paper carrying handle, turned around to put it in the cart and ....SPLAT!!!! The handle broke, and the chicken made a break for it, landing on the floor, juices and all. It lay there kind of sad and steamy, it's little wings outstretched. Just then L came walking up, and the exchange went like this:
L (not wanting to attract attention) : Pick it up!
Me: I can't. It's hot.
L (noticing that it's still steaming like crazy) : Oh. Right.
He then bent down and did the manly thing: he picked up the hot chicken in his bare hands and flipped it into the container. I think he burned his fingers a little, because he kept saying "Wow, that chicken was hot!". We found a grocery store guy to report the spillage to. He acted like it was a pleasure to pick up the defunct chicken and clean up the floor. *sigh* I love that store. I'm going to keep going back there. But not too soon. They need to forget my face first.
As we were driving home, I remarked that the little chicken had given it's life for nothing. No one would ever taste it's juicy goodness after having been on the floor of the grocery store. L seemed to find that funny. His shouders started shaking up and down.
Last night we had to go to the store again. This time for butter, since I went through tons of butter making those Easter cupcakes. Mmmmm... *licking lips and wishing I had one right now* Anyway, we stopped in at Von's. This time I waited in the car. No point in wreaking havoc on a second store.