Mr. Bean Hallucination = Last Straw

Bigfoot quit. Urgently need concentrate, describe assorted crock pots for gift catalog. But hit wall.

So tired. Babysitter coming one hour. Hustle guys out for trip to grocery store, think up great plan buy rotisserie chicken. Beeline for spinning chicken case.

Empty. No chicken. Bigfoot at loss. Case not even hot. Wander around. Pick up feta cheese. Put in basket. Is there anything here you guys would eat? Pick up red velvet whoopie pie. Put back. Pour cup complimentary coffee. Add cream. Jack take decaf. Bubs exclaim over cute mini Orangina bottles.

Boys spy case exotic pre-made foods. Mini meatloaf. Asparagus w. lemon slice. Terayaki thing. Honey mustard thing. Mozzarella sticks. Ziti. Coleslaw. Buffalo nibbles. Mom! They have General Tso’s!

Bigfoot and the Deli Woman exchange pleasantries.

BIGFOOT: We’d like five pieces of the General Tso’s


BIGFOOT: Will the sticker have a list of the ingredients?

DW: Wha? Oh, no

BIGFOOT: Could you show me a list of the ingredients?

DW: What? I guess I could (goes behind curtain for a few seconds.) It’s way in the back. If you really need to know…

MANAGER: (to DW) Can’t you just go get (sotto voce) t  h  e     c  a  n ?

DW: (to Bigfoot, realizing the secret of the can has been breached) The sauce is just from a can, and then we add some stuff to it

BIGFOOT: What kind of stuff? Like…honey? Or…like…water?

DW: (shrugs) Yeah, probably those things

BIGFOOT: Well. Okay. This is going to sound crazy, but aren’t you sort of required to disclose the ingredients on the food you sell?

DW: No. I don’t think so

BIGFOOT: (blinks. Considers saying why she needs to know the ingredients, but decides it’s not worth the risk of this person misunderstanding and all that irritating jazz)

DW: (reaches little plastic tub of chicken across case)

BIGFOOT: Could you tell me what the things are that you personally add to the can?

DW: Just sesame seeds

BIGFOOT: (valiantly holding back tears) So I can look up what ingredients are usually in General Tso’s, and then add honey and sesame seeds?

DW: Probably

Bigfoot so, so tired. Every bit this exchange unsatisfactory. (In retrospect, esp. for Deli Woman!) Go to cashier. Place chicken tub, feta on conveyor belt.

Look up. Aw, man. Cashier look just like Mr. Bean, but young. Last morsel strength drained from Bigfoot as struggle not say, Has anyone ever told you look like Mr. Bean? Mr. Bean Cashier even make over-long, devilish eye contact, curl ruby lips, waggle one eyebrow. This is impossible! Is this a PRANK? Await credit card approval, begin feel more annoyed Mr. Bean Cashier. How dare you look like Mr. Bean, and then do voluntary Mr. Bean facial expressions when I’m already having such a terrible time in your godforsaken store!

On way out, guess Bigfoot make agony face because Jack ask, “Are you okay?” And Bubs ask, “Yeah, did we do something wrong?” When answer No, I’m just so tired, and everything in that store was so disappointing start cry tiny bit. Boys chorus we’re sorry! We’re sorry! Say something like you guys are fantastic. I’m sorry I’m so tired. Didn’t that cashier look like Mr. Bean? Guys noncommittal. Eh, I guess so. WTF?! Like ripping off scab! Cashier 100% young Mr. Bean. Now family abandon Bigfoot? Shit.

Back home, Bigfoot guess 3g carbs per walnut-size lump General Tso. Retrospect, of course realize not need know sauce ingredients at all. Even if sauce 100% high fructose corn syrup, no way accurate how much coat each hunklet. But Deli Woman didn’t know that I didn’t need to know! I could have had a nut allergy! Or a kosher kitchen!

At home, Bubs decide General Tso’s too spicy consume. Apple with peanut butter instead.

Pick up adorable diabetic teen hunk Dream Babysitter. Smell like dryer sheet. Beautiful evening. Babysitter begin frisbee golf game in yard. Cool, green grass. Bigfoot feed dog. Wag wag wag. Say goodbye smiley people. Get in new, clean car. Hybrid, so silent. Very pleasant. Head down street toward water. Beautiful sky. Think fern you and fern canned sauce and fern Mr. Bean.



  1. Sara · June 15, 2012

    About halfway through I had to stop counting the things I love about this post! The callback to Kerri’s abandoned anti-swearing campaign may have pushed me over the edge.


  2. ZDub · June 15, 2012

    It had a similar exchange with two teenagers working in Subway. “What do you mean you don’t know how many carbs are in six inches of bread? You are supposed to tell!” And then I cried and the zitfaced 19 year old stoner found one lone pamphlet in a drawer and waved it at me and yelled, “You can stop crying, ma’am!”



    • Katy · June 15, 2012

      i need to know that figure for today. (it’s outdoor day at school–meatball grinder.) 20?


    • Katy · June 15, 2012

      thank you for crying in subway!


  3. Reyna · June 15, 2012

    I so felt your broken spirit as you left the store! I hope you felt refreshed after some time out Big Foot Katy. xo


  4. Robin · June 15, 2012

    It disappoints me you have only 114 followers. You are hysterical. Today I wondered: do you try hard at this blogging, or does it come easy for you? And I love that I share it with a non Type 1 mom and she appreciates your humor and distaste for HFCS and all things from “the can”.


    • Katy · June 15, 2012

      ha! thanks! you’re making me blush. this comes too easily to me. it’s the writing about crock pots that takes FOREVER.


  5. laura · June 15, 2012

    I pine for an adorable diabetic teen hunk Dream Babysitter that smells like dryer sheets. Yummy.
    (Oh! Not “yummy” in a creepy cougar kinda way but “yummy” as in my girls are so cute I could eat them up kinda way! Eeesh.) Excellent post.


    • Katy · June 15, 2012

      I do sort of have a crush on him, but in a hypothetical way. We’re very proper here. Ideally I would be 15 and would have Type 1 diabetes myself, as a conversation starter.


  6. cbwinchild · June 15, 2012



  7. shannon · June 16, 2012

    kid on couch next to me, husband rearranging dvd cases, me reading your blog. i had to stop them from what they were doing to read your post aloud. at the end, kid exclaims loudly I LOVE HER WRITING STYLE, i excitedly yell ME TOO!

    i lost it at faux-bean’s over-long exaggerated eye contact. srsly.

    i am so glad you came into our lives!


    • Katy · June 16, 2012

      you are too much. and i hope when i meet you, your hair is made of red wax!


  8. Robin Jingjit · September 17, 2012

    I realize this post is 3 months old which as least 2 years old in blog years but I just read it and it gave me side cramps from laughing so hard. Please never, ever, ever stop writing.


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