Heather ... Here to Save Your Sticky Buns!

"How did we get here?" I was in a meeting the other day when a confused attendee asked that very question in reference to the topic. That same question entered my mind tonight as I sat down to dinner while talking on the phone with my mom. One minute we're talking about my brother and law school, and suddenly, from left field, I mean no warning, no nothing (of course I may have tuned her out for a moment or two) I hear, "You were there when your brother was circumcised ...." And, then it was a queazy fading jumble of words, "bloody ... piece .... foreskin ..." was all I heard after that - I kid you NOT - food on my tongue at THAT very moment and mom decides to talk about .... okay, I'll spare the rest of you the graphic, bloody details ...

Speaking of food, I think there should be legislation on grocery checkers making random comments about your items as they ring them up. And, of course, there are never fewer than 15 people behind you when that happens, well, at least there were today when Ms. Snooootybigmouth commented loudly on my XXXXXX - to my very shock and horror! Oh man, she came real close to getting her nose grabbed and squished.

So, back up .... way before I got to Ms. Snooootybigmouth, before I loaded my cart, I was strolling across the crowded parking lot when an older lady's grocery bag ripped, sending all of her food rolling in different directions ... except, of course the sticky bun box, which landed upside-down in two pieces at my feet .... damn they were good! Okay, just joking, but I did have to corral those sticky little suckers back into the gooey box and hand them back to her .... yes, ALL of them.

"Oh come on, you know you had two stuffed into each cheek when you walked away!" said my mom, hysterically. No, eating that poor lady's sticky buns did not cross my mind .... however, what DID cross my mind was a little mellow-drama ... jump to me ripping off my shirt (no, not like that, you perv!) like Superman, except to reveal a sticky bun shirt and me proudly exclaiming, "Never fear! I am here to save your sticky buns!" Followed by another hilarious mental snippet that almost left me rolling in the donut aisle - "Heather Singer, super sticky bun picker-upper at your service!" Try saying that 10 times fast! I only got to two in the car on the way home. After two, it turns into something like "Heather Stinker sticky picker ..... "

So, on a serious note ... in celebration of being one week free of that Dark and Gloomy Cloud - yes, you heard me, it stayed gone - I am going to indulge my super sticky bun picker-upper self in three of my guilty pleasures ... I can't tell you what those are, but I CAN tell you that Scrubs better not be a tear-jerker like it was last night ... or so help me, someone will be getting their nose grabbed and squished ... yeah, that's right, I'm talking to you, Zach Braff, Mr. Talking Floating Head Man of My Dreams ......