Meg plays softball on the Town of Cary women’s league. There are 4 teams and they play every Tuesday and Thursday. I haven’t been to a single game.
Nate and I were going to go to her Tuesday game this week. We were all set to go and pick my parents up on the way and then about an hour before the game Meg called and it was cancelled on account of the field being soaking wet from the freaking 3 inches of rain we had recently.
So then we were going to go last night. I worked from home and tried to get some stuff done around the house. Since we officially sold the old house we decided to celebrate by buying a new grill and a new lawn mower, both of which required minor assembly. So when Nate left work I went to the vet to pick up Gouda’s medication (which, now that I think about it, is still in my purse) and then I went to Harris Teeter to pick stuff up for a cookout we’re having on Saturday (Derby Day!).
Now let me start by saying I love the Harris Teeter. This is mostly unrelated to the softball thing and being a bad sister, but MAN was the Harris Teeter a pain in my ass yesterday. It was probably my most organized grocery store trip ever thanks to me having plugged my list into the website earlier and printed off a version that told me what aisle everything was on. But checking out sucked majorly. The poor kid that was my cashier must have been new. He kept needing help and I felt kind of bad for him. He was really nice but it took me FOREVER to check out. So I finally paid, took my cart, went home, unloaded the groceries and then went to help Nate finish assembling the grill. As I was helping (watching) him finish I realized that I didn’t remember unloading the pork tenderloin or the brats into the fridge.
Son of a bitch.
So off I went back to the freaking Harris Teeter where my cashier retrieved my missing bag from a shelf of bags that must be where bags go when they forget to put a bag in your cart.
When I got back and it was time to do the lawn mower and I swear it was only like 6:15, only somehow after getting the lawn mower started it turned into 6:55 which SUCKED because Meg’s game started at 6:45.
I felt really bad and we decided to see her next game on Tuesday. By the time we drove out to her game it would have been 7:15-7:20 and the games are timed at 45 minutes. Or atleast that’s what I’ve been told by people who have actually gone to see Meg play.
So I sent her a text saying I was sorry we didn’t make it, but next time! Definitely next time!
And then she sent me one back.
She said not to worry about it. She didn’t go either.