{ simple minds, simple pleasures }

As almost every American has done {and probably within the last week}, we headed to our local neighborhood Walmart.  It is our one-stop-shopping depot where we can find almost anything we need.  And this time we needed oil.  No, not olive oil.  Nor was it canola or corn oil {still figuring out if it makes a difference which one I bake with}.  It was automotive oil.  Which meant we had to go to the farthest outer-northeast region of the store.  A place that I find drab and funky rubber smelling {I attribute the smell to the tires}.  And as much as I find it duller than a conversation with a rock, my children are even LESS amused.  

I pushed the cart over to the funnels, and we admired the variety that one can find there.  Colors, shapes, sizes- you name it.  But the kids lost interest pretty quickly.  As did I.  You can only look at them for so long, and my sweetheart {like a boy in a candy shop}, was not finished perusing all the different kinds of motor oils they had lining the shelves {"Gotta find the best kind for the best deal!"}.  Great.  We moved on.  A little further down the isle, my eye catches a glimpse of something peculiar, and as the 5 year old burst out of me, I could not restrain myself from picking it up and looking ever so closely at it.  This tubal wonder eluded me.  I tugged on the ends and it expanded with a joyfully silly noise.  By this time my kids were freaking out- they wanted to hold one, too!  As I gave them each a different color, the isle echoed with funny sliding trombone-ish noises and I couldn't help but laugh!  My kids were mesmerized.  They just SAT there.  In the cart.  Not a word came from their mouths as they played with this magical wonder.  I looked at the price.  FIFTY CENTS.  By that time, my hubby had found his sacred oil and we finally proceeded to leave.  No, I did not make them put it back.  Fifty cents.  Fifty cents was a Fabulistic price to pay for sanity, for being able to buy groceries without bored kids screaming that they want this or that, to be able to hurry and not waste time by saying "no", and "put that back", then grabbing their found treasure and walking all the way back down the isle to put it back myself.  Fifty cents.  Heaven can be found on earth.  

And it's called an Oil Flex.

| a.k.a. "Angel Makers" |

Go Get One

{Angel Wings and Halos not included}

BTW- if you buzz your lips into it, it makes funny "rear" sounds.  Again, the 5 year old came out, but thankfully I discovered this at home and not at the marketplace.  

AND make sure you go here to MMU to enter for this week's gnarly giveaway!