Saturday, March 10, 2012


I have been running a convenience store/gas station/service shop with my husband for a little over a month now. It's an interesting shift for our family. The kids come to work with me every day. They have a playroom in the back where they spend the majority of their time grinding cheetos into the carpet, and throwing toys all over the room. The other half of the time they come behind the counter and pester me for chips, or pop tarts, chocolate milk,or any other random piece of inventory that is their current obsession. Life is good when your parents own twenty thousand dollars worth of groceries (mostly junk food), or so they seem to think. My usual answer to their begging is "do you have any money?". Their response is always "no"...then they look at me like I am nuts.

While his brothers run amok, Axel kicks it with me behind the front desk most the day. I have a playpen, a bouncy seat and a bumbo seat for him there,but he spends 97.89% of his time in my arms. The child wants to be held ALL THE TIME. I run a cash register with one hand. Every other customer says "Wow. You have your hands full." I act like I have NEVER heard that, and say "Yes. You're right." Although "full hands" sounds like the understatement of the year when my three year old,and four year old are beating each other senseless right in front of the tobacco display, I'm soothing a crying baby, and waiting on a line of customers...oh and the phone is ringing too. "Wow. You have all four limbs stuck in a meat grinder." Seems like a more fitting phrase for me and my situation.

There are perks to having your own convenience store. I get to buy groceries professionally now, which is fun. I am guilty of buying an entire case of something just because it's something I want it, which does not necessarily mean that it will fly like hotcakes. On this note: Are mint M&Ms not appealing? I think they are damn good, but I don't think I have sold one bag to anyone, but me. I will be really depressed if I look at that empty box of 24 bags and realize that I have eaten every single one. Also, I get a rush when it is time to leave and I can shove anything I want in my bag. Last night I impulsively grabbed a root beer, which is not usually on the Audrey menu. "Why are you drinking a root beer?" my husband later asked, as if it was the oddest thing I've ever done. "Because I can." was my response, and I really have no reasoning other than that. I want it, and I can!

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