Once upon a time (otherwise known as last Saturday), I headed to the store to get some khaki pants for our son Justus. He was to be Terry the Turkey in our homeschool play that evening, and as we all know, turkeys wear khaki pants (as well as a red felt waddle hooked around a headband).
Like a good mom, I had forgotten all about his need for khaki pants until the last minute. So off I went to the store at 4:00 in the afternoon – just two and a half hours before the kids needed to be in costume.
I decided to make the most of my shopping trip and purchased a cart full of items: food to feed the youth group on Sunday; food to feed the YC basketball team on Tuesday; fruit for my family to eat; and of course, khaki pants.
Oh, and did I mention that I also picked up three gallons of Vodka?
Is it party time at the Coppinger’s house? Ummm…no. Vanilla beans are on sale, and it’s time to start another big batch of Homemade Vanilla Extract. I’m never a fan of buying the vodka – especially three gallons at one time. I know I shouldn’t worry about what people think, but I do always wonder what goes through a person’s head when they see that amount of liquor in my cart. “Focus on the bananas and clementines in my cart, People!” I shout in my head. Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s an effective diversion.
Anyway, I went through check-out with my very full cart full of fruit, youth group food, khaki pants, and vodka. Once I got home, all the boys came out to help bring in the loot. We put away all the groceries, slid the bag of vodka to the side of the kitchen for another time, and hustled to get ready to leave for the play.
But where were Justus’ new pants??
We retraced our steps. We looked through the van. We ransacked the house. There were no khaki pants to be found anywhere. Aaaahhhh!!!
I called the store. Had I left the pants there somehow? Had anyone found them?
They looked. No luck. The khaki pants had vanished.
Flustered, I gave the boys instructions to find some food, get their showers, and get ready (as much as possible) for the play. I hopped back into the van and headed back to the store. Aarrrgg! I did not have time for this!!!
Back at the store, they were gracious when I showed them my receipt, assuming that the mistake was theirs, and told me to go get another pair of pants. I searched until I found another pair, showed them to the nice lady, and then flew out of the store.
Back at home, I threw the pants at Justus, praying that they would fit. They did.
Off we went to the play, where everything went off without a hitch.
Allow me to introduce Terry the Turkey and Horace the Horse.
The following day, as I was finally taking the vodka out of the bag to get ready to make vanilla extract, you will never believe what I found. There, under all those bottles…was a pair of khaki pants.
You have got to be kidding me. I sure never thought to look UNDER the vodka. But indeed, there they were.
See? There they are…
I headed off to the store again, glad to have the mystery solved, and glad to return the pants so that the store didn’t have to “eat” the cost.
The moral of the story is: If you ever lose your khaki pants, don’t forget to look under the vodka.
