Weird little bit of awesomeness today.
Out grocery shopping, I paused by the broth section, scanning the items looking for my favorite brands and checking out some new ones, too, thinking, “I should get some more broth.”
Then my brain said, quite matter of factly and with an air of measured reasonableness, “Actually, you have a fair amount of broth at home. Use some up first, (make room for more) and then restock.” Reasonable, logical thoughts they were, and so I moved on.
Then, when I came home I had in one of my bags — kid you not — a can of broth.
I did not put this can in my cart. I don’t buy broth in cans; I typically buy jars of Better than Bouillon for my store-bought broth bases and sometimes I buy broth in those waxed-paper, rectangular boxes.
But somehow a can of broth was put in my bag and sent home with me.
I scanned my receipt and, sure enough, I wasn’t charged for it, but there it was: a can of broth in my bag.
Tada!
