Forget the Chipits, It's A Box of Cadbury's kinda Day

To begin, I got into an argument with my dear, sweet old lady of a mother-in-law at breakfast. Oatmeal for breakfast, not a problem; tons of brown sugar in the bowl, check; tea and orange juice at the ready; children at the table, grace said and my mother-in-law waiting. What could she be waiting for? Plus, she was waiting in silence; so, I had to guess. Am I being mean expecting her to tell me what she wants? Then, as I ponder what she wants, the matriarch lifts her bowl, in a unsteady scene reminiscent of that image in "Oliver," except, she still says nothing. No "Please, ma'am, may I have some more," she says nothing and I have to guess: she wants more milk. I feel like an idiot; so, naturally, I ask her why didn't say something sooner. She replies she was waiting for the children to finish with the milk; I say they had; she says she couldn't see that; I say, because, ultimately, I am an evil person, how did you see to put the sugar and milk in your bowl the first time?

I repeat to myself: I am going to hell. I am going to hell.

To apologize for the argument, I offer to take her for a drive and so begins the quest for large sized, man-sized tissues; they are no longer made, at least, they are no longer available in Barrie. I know. For sure. Until one has spent the morning traveling with someone whose world has changed overnight, they may make no comment. This quest has happened before and I know it will happen again; today's, unfortunately, ended unresolved because no where had the tissues. Then, my mother-in-law told me she had enough tissues for another three months. This time I keep silent as in I did not ask why we had to go looking for them in the first place. But, I feel sorry for her because the tissues seem so important. They, some kleenex manufacturer somewhere, used to make them and now they don't and it has changed my mother-in-law's world overnight. She is reliant on these tissues and some person somewhere in the world has decided to no longer make them. So, the matriarch got mad at me and said she used to get them at a particular store. As I am the only one to take her shopping and have been for some time, I know she is talking about an event that happened years ago. It doesn't change the fact that she is annoyed and the store in question doesn't sell these particular tissues anymore. When we get home, the matriarch angrily goes up the stairs and I plow into a box of Cadbury's because it feels more of a box of chocolate kind of day.