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I went to Kroger today to get Cara some Nyquil and to seek fresh peaches and not find them. There were about 15 kinds of apples, however. A woman came in with her young son and I listened to her constantly deny him "apple dip." "No, that's apple dip. We don't need any apple dip. No, that's also apple dip. We don't want apple dip. That's still apple dip. No. We're not getting any apple dip." I had begun to believe that "apple dip" was her code term for "things in life you may never have, my young son," but when I looked behind me, yes, everything in sight was apple dip.

I took it upon myself to smell every piece of fruit in the store, driven by my lack of peaches. As I was trying unsucessfully to detect the scent of an Asian pear, the young apple dip boy knocked over an entire display of fruit bars and managed to find himself under the shopping cart. I stared for a moment, but the boy got back up, so there wasn't really much to see. I kept trying to smell the Asian pear and it still didn't smell like anything. Others were still staring, so I decided it was proper that I had to stare again. She blubbered over apple dip boy for 10 minutes, though, and even the boredest, oldest bystander moved on.



No. All of them are apple dip.