#winterstruggles

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Today, we did a few dashes in Niles before deciding to get the new truck legal. That turned into a multi-hour adventure involving finding a notary, going to the title office, backtracking to the house for the handicap placard, and returning to the title office, only to finish at the BMV. About two hours after starting this quest, we finally had the truck officially moved into Milo's name.

Then came the next challenge: swapping out the old plates for the new ones. What should have been a quick task turned into a raid-tier ordeal. The previous owner, in their infinite wisdom, used some kind of rounded Phillips screws instead of regular hex-head plate screws. I had to drill those out.

Did I mention it was 28°F? That’s about − 2°C for those of you on the metric system. My fingers were numb by the time I got the final screw to relinquish its death grip on the plates. It took nearly three hours—well after dark—and a full arsenal of tools: screwdrivers, hammers, drill bits, and even vice grips, because one screw decided to act like a stubborn top. When I finally trudged into the house my glasses fogged up instantly as the warmth hit me.

Milo asked if I was ready to go to Walmart (or as I like to call it, the real-life Zoeverse ValueMart). 'Not really,' I thought while fumbling to put the tools away, but I said out loud, “Sure.” My body, however, had other plans. It demanded a pit stop on the white throne. Not one to waste time, I used the opportunity to dictate the shopping list while the rest of me took care of business.

With nature’s call answered, Milo and I headed to Walmart. Once there, I tackled the shopping list until I reached my hidden cookie mission. If there’s one cookie I love more than mini chocolate chip, it’s Great Value butter cookies. You know the kind: the ones that come in tins around the holidays, stacked in cupcake liners, each tin a treasure trove of buttery perfection.

The problem? They’re $15.88, which is a hefty price tag on a budget. My solution? Hide them. It worked brilliantly last year with a jumbo Hershey bar that dropped to $5 after New Year’s.

So, before they sold out, I stashed two tins of cookies in what I considered the most unlikely of places: the vacuum section and near food sealer bags. Flash forward to today. Armed with my trusty phone, I checked the first hiding spot in the vacuum aisle. Nothing. Someone had discovered my stash. Disheartened, I moved on to the second location, only to realize that every box in my reference photo was labeled in French.

At that moment, I realized I’m not Star Ride’s artist (the brilliant creator of my favorite Star Trek parody comic). So, what did I do? I turned to ChatGPT for a quick translation.

Turned out they were vacuum sealer bags. The kind you put food in and it sucks all the air out to maintain freshness. Away I went, a few aisles over, the irony not lost on me about where I chose to put the second tin. After a few minutes, I shifted a couple aside and saw a shiny curved tin. I pulled it out and resisted the urge to raise it above my head like Mario. I tossed it in my cart, shifted some stuff over it to hide it from view, and went back to groceries, my hard-earned loot secured.

About 15 minutes later I collected the rest and checked out, sorting through the mountain of stuff that occasionally fell if I turned too fast. Blip, blip, blip, bag, bag, bag, stack, stack, stack, until I reached my loot. I scanned it. 3.75. 'SCORE!' I thought, smugly double bagging it.