Dear King Soopers,

As an adult I have come to realize that the unwritten contractual agreements made between two adult parties are just as important as signing your name on the dotted line………. in blood. There are certain unsaid rules in my house for instance,  only men take out the garbage. I don’t even pretend to take out the trash, it just happens. This afternoon strolling along with my little weasel strapped into his stroller, we decide to go into your store, the same one that I have gone to at least five times a week for the last two years. I spend my grocery money in your store, not because it’s the closest or the cheapest, but because I like the fact that every time I come into the store, there waiting patiently for weasels grubby fingers, is a tray full of free kids cookies. These cookies are provided by your company in order to keep me in the store longer than I would be able to, if my kid decided that he was no longer in the shopping mood. Its a symbiotic relationship, ours, and I need you to start picking up your end of the deal. For the last three visits, there has been no cookies in the free cookie tray. This results in weasel-hysterics. To remedy this situation I will offer you a couple of options.

A. Just Fix it.

Just make some damn cookies, this shouldn’t just be a rule, this should be a  law. I shop at your store, please provide the necessary means for me to do so without threatening the life of the first person who asks me to keep my kid quiet sans proper cookie-distractions.

B. Deal with it.

If I get to the cookie counter and there aren’t any cookies, Im going to open up a box of cookies right there in the middle of the store and give one to every cookie-less child that I see. Those cinnamon raisin one’s are pretty incredible, I gotta tell you.

C. Suck it up.

If I can’t find aforementioned box of cookies that you have neglected to offer, despite the toddler-battered mommies that rush your store everyday , I will take whatever you have available. Please note, when it comes to meltdown avoidance, I have no shame and your pretty doughnuts are on my list of acceptable alternatives. Kids cookies are a mandatory part of running a grocery store. If you aren’t going to bring it, Im going to have to shop while weasel screams his way through each and every aisle. Im used to it, he’s lived with me everyday since conception, his screams no longer reach my inner-ear. I know that he is making noise, but it stopped bothering me months ago. With that in mind, I know from experience that his shrill cookie-lusting screams can (and will) break glass. Just bring out the fricken cookies. Best Regards, AntiSoccermom

© 2009, AntiSoccermom. All rights reserved to the original author unless stated otherwise.