The green cabbage was too big to grip and slid out of my hand, rolling down into the carrots just as the overhead spray came on, misting the vegetables and my shirt. Finally, I wrestled the cabbage into my cart and onto the check-out counter.
“Wow, a giant,” the woman said.
“Too big,” I said as a puddle formed beneath it. “And too wet.”
“Blame the cabbage,” she said—and when our eyes met, I knew we were thinking the same thing. Thank goodness we had something else to blame, something as blameless as a cabbage.