That would be me.
Yesterday, I made a trip to Wally World - I get my drugs, groceries and many other sundry items there as a rule. One stop shopping, doncha know. I'm not much for running all over town to buy a certain thing from one store, then dash off to the next one for the next item. Nope, it's all about convenience for me.
So, I was buying some items to fill in the corners of the ol' pantry, as it were. Among the items were some tomatoes, Swiss cheese and wheat bread. I had all my groceries sitting on the passenger seat and on the floorboard of the ol' Chebby Z71, and on my way home, it occurred to me that I was not seeing the loaf of bread. Well, crap, I wasn't finding the tomatoes or the dern cheese, neither. What in the wide wide world of sports had just happened?
Near as I can tell, I either left it in the shopping cart, never completely unloading it then pushed it into the cart rack. Or, I never got it loaded up at the checkout counter. I was the last customer that day for the checker - she was closing up as I left. It could have been on her rotating sack rack.
I think it was my fault and I just left the sacks in the stupid cart. I generally haul my bread and eggs in the child seat as to avoid the rough and tumble of the main compartment, and I sure think I remember putting the sack that held the bread up there.
I do not care for these kind of mysteries. Apparently I'm a prime example of a CRS* sufferer. Or, as the case may be, I might just be going whole hog and exhibiting symptoms of CRAFT**.
I've always said I can hear my Daddy speak at certain times in my life, even though he has passed on. On this occasion, he told me that I'd forget my a$$ if it weren't hooked on. Thanks, Dad, for that pithy and useful wisdom. Really helped out there.
* Can't Remember Shit
**Can't Remember A Fucking Thing.