Wednesday is coupon day. I come home from work to find that my mailbox runneth o'er with a bounty of coupons. I grab them, I enter my home, and I inevitably need to pee. I don't know if I have to pee every day when I enter the door, or if I only have to pee on Coupon Wednesday. All I know is that peeing is always an inconvenience as it only increases the suspence of finding out what's on sale. I bring the coupons into the bathroom with me, though I don't know why I do this, because peeing only takes about twenty seconds and only about ten of those seconds are free, since the other ten are taken up by looking at the nasty bathroom floor, thinking that The Boy needs to clean the bathroom soon or by looking for a new roll of toilet paper.
Post-pee, I retire to the living room where I take my coupon-reading seat. I do not sit on the couch. I do not sit in The Boy's chair. I sit in my womb-like papazan, cross my legs, and start flipping through the coupons.
Each ad is scrutinized. I notice errors, like where the word "cantaloupe" describes a picture of naval oranges. Or where a company claims that their shirts compliment every body (actually, it may not be a bad idea to market talking shirts...). Those coupons and flyers that are useless, the majority, are discarded; I throw them to the floor in disgust. I even open the ValPak coupons. I know that few people do, but for the last six years, I've been convinced that one day I'll open it and find the special $100 check. Then I can get up in fast and testimony meeting and talk about the blessings of tithing. It hasn't happened yet.
But today, the ValPak coupons offered me a gem. If you haven't read Nemesis's blog about food storage yet, you're going to have to or else this won't be funny. I found a coupon and I doctored it up a little in Photoshop to properly reflect the most important item in one's food storage. Enjoy! (Find image below---I had image loading problems today.)