ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE
I'm sure, at some point, everyone's done something wrong and tried to pass it off as an accident. Whenever we would do something like this as a kid and give my Mom a sheepish look with a faint, "It was an accident," she would always come back with, "You mean accidentally on purpose??" Saying something is an accident when it really isn't is code for "I regret doing that. Please don't make me feel worse by saying it isn't."
The best example of accidentally on purpose that comes to mind is when we took our neighbor, Jimbo, along with us to get ice cream. He ordered the largest cone they had, and whether he didn't like the flavor he picked or it was just too much ice cream, he began, by slow degrees, to tip his hand until gravity finally took over and the ice cream fell to the ground.
"Whoops! That was an accident."
"That's okay, Jimbo, that's okay," we said, knowingly.
I tend to become addicted to the strangest things, namely Ricola Cough Drops, Harvest Cheddar Sun Chips, and Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls.
Even though I am a fervent rule follower, I could not heed the warning label to not exceed a certain amount of Ricolas in a day. I realized that I cannot stop eating them if they are in my presence. I was off of these things for probably ten years, when recently, in a moment of sickly weakness in CVS, I purchased a bag of them because they seemed like they would be comforting to me in my sick state. I was pleased to notice that there was no longer a consumption warning on them. Maybe they realized that excess amounts of Ricola cannnot harm you. Still, I felt a little ashamed when, as I pulled something out of my purse in the presence of two of my oldest friends the other day, they saw the Ricola bag, looked at each other, gasped, and said, "Gretchen's got Ricola."
Harvest Cheddar Sun Chips have caused such intense cravings in me as to make me go to Kroger at ten p.m....in my pajamas...with no bra...just to purchase them.
And, as for Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls: MUST. EAT. ENTIRE. BOX. IN ONE SITTING. Every time.
For some reason, I really cannot say what, Amish people don't seem to like me. In fact, I feel shunned by them. You may think, who cares? Do you really have to deal with the Amish all that often? But, I went to college in a town full of Amish (there were buggy hitches at most of the local businesses). I have always gone out of my way to be nice to Amish people and say hello to them to convey that, see, even though you are Amish, I don't judge you for it and am saying hello to you anyway. Hmmm...just realizing that this might be the reason they don't like me.
Once my family was at Old Man's Cave in Hocking Hills, and a large group of Amish happened to be visiting as well. Of course, they shunned my attempts at friendliness. But, I noticed that they were being exceptionally mean to two members of their group: a really old woman and a crippled boy. I realized that maybe I didn't like the Amish much myself.
And why anyone would want to visit a place called Amish Country is beyond me.
When my daughter, Sophie, was about one, I introduced her to avocados. She loved them, but I was afraid that the name "avocado," being so strange and all, would give her negative associations with the food. So, I started calling them Creamies, instead. She still loves her Creamies, and I admit that I found it rather funny when a couple years later some unknowing adult mentioned avocados in her presence and she wrinkled her nose and said, "Avocados? Those are called Creamies."