Take It Or Leave It

So yesterday, I was in the Gelson's parking lot, where else would I be, putting my recyclable earth-friendly super cool billboard grocery bags in the trunk of my car, when I noticed a woman standing off to the side, staring at me. I shut the trunk and she stepped closer. My mind started to race. I looked at her. She looked at me, and said, in a very thick Spanish accent: "I-take-it." I said nothing. She said it again: "I-take-it." I smiled, stupidly. It's not often you're faced with such a run-on sentence. I started to move my cart. She took a step closer, and said, slower this time, "I... take... it."

Ah, a moment of clarity. Don't you love those? She wanted to take my cart, as opposed to something else, like my left shoe or one of my recyclable earth-friendly super cool billboard grocery bags, which she'd have to fight me for, and she'd lose, because I love those freakin' bags.  Love. Them. So. Much. Now that I understood her goal, I sent the cart her way, and said, "Take it."

Then I got in my car and said, "I-take-it" over and over, emphasizing different words till I got it just right. "I TAKE it. "I take IT." "I TAKE IT." I got home and said it again, in a truly Shakespearean way. "I taketh it." Then I said it like my grandmother would, in a truly Yiddish way. "Why should I take it?" This went on for quite a while, I'm afraid. I did a lengthy "I-take-it" soliloquy for first hubby, youngest son and eldest puppy, till they ran screaming and barking from the room.

You'll be happy to know that just moments ago, I decided to stop saying, "I take it," before they take me away. Although, a nice rest wouldn't be so bad. If they do take me away, would you come visit me?