Pregnancy Brain...or Lack Thereof

A few weeks ago I was asked if I've yet felt the effects of "pregnancy brain". I thought on the question for a few seconds, and then replied "No, I don't think so. Does that really exist?"

However, once the thought was in my head, I started to catch myself doing and saying some of the most ridiculous things. Now, I don't know how much of this can truly be blamed on pregnancy brain, but I've decided I'm going to soak these last few hormonal months up for all they're worth and go with the theory.

The other day Jason and I were at the grocery store. One of the only things I was there for was chicken noodle soup, but as is always the case, the trip quickly snowballed into a full-blown, overflowing cart kind of trip. I distinctly remember standing in the soup aisle at one point, and I distinctly remember scanning the labels with my keen eyesight, and I distinctly remember grabbing 3 cans of chicken noodle soup and placing them in my cart. Remember this scene, it will leave you just as boggled as it left me only a few short hours later.

First though, I must describe another picture to you. In this particular scene, Jason and I are standing in the frozen food aisle, and we've left our cart only a few glass doors down from us. At one point, Jason hands me 2 boxes of creamed spinach and asks that I put them in our cart. I distinctly remember walking to our cart, I distinctly remember rearranging a few things (namely, an 8-pack of Yoplait yogurt), and I distinctly remember fitting our frozen creamed spinach snugly into place.

Now if you will, please fast-forward about an hour to when we are just getting home and unloading our groceries.

Peculiarity #1: As I am stocking my 3 cans of chicken noodle soup into the pantry, I notice that they are not in fact chicken noodle soup. In my hand I am holding 3 cans of french onion soup. Which, I might add, is about the most different looking kind of soup one can find from chicken noodle soup (see below). I have never in my life bought french onion soup. I am bewildered.

Peculiarity #2: We are missing our creamed spinach. At first, we assume that maybe they were overlooked in the bagging process. It happens. But after checking the receipt, we determine that we were never even charged for creamed spinach. The mystery thickens as we realize the creamed spinach has somehow vanished from our cart somewhere between the frozen food aisle and the checkout line. Jason asks me if I'm sure I put it in the cart, to which I quite defensively reply "Yes, I distinctly remember moving the yogurt over to make room for the spinach!"

There's a brief awkward pause where I can only assume he is deciding whether or not to spare me my dignity. Then he replies, "Uh, what yogurt? We didn't buy any yogurt." Apparently he decided against the dignity thing. I'm about to argue back when I realize that he is absolutely correct. We did not buy any yogurt on this trip. I am further bewildered.

This leaves me with 3 theories to mull over:

Theory #1: The french onion soup dispenser is right next to the chicken noodle soup dispenser, and I mistakenly grabbed the wrong one. I have no defense for the spinach thing on this theory, but there's no need as it was quickly debunked anyway. After telling my mother the story of the soup, she pointed out that the two soups are no where near each other in her local store. I took a look at my own store the next time I was in, and she is correct. They are on almost opposite ends of the soup section.

Theory #2: Ok, so I mistakenly put the darn spinach in another person's cart. So sue me. It happens...they should really make those grocery carts all different colors or something. However, in this theory, the correct owner of the cart that I am not-so-subtly digging through and rearranging to my own liking is so deeply offended by my misunderstanding of socially acceptable grocery store practices that she decides to beat me at my own game. She sees my 3 cans of chicken noodle soup, clearly the prize of my trip thus far as they are perched honorably in the top kiddie-seat part of my own cart, and decides to swap it out with something random. Say, french onion soup.

Theory #3: Pregnancy brain truly exists, and I have fallen victim.

I'm still teetering between theories 2 and 3. Whatever the reason may be, I certainly hope that some family somewhere is enjoying our creamed spinach as much as we had hoped to.