What to feed my blog dog today?

I was just sitting here in the office staring the monitor trying to recall what, if any interesting things had happened since I last reported. I was beginning to think of how drone-like my life is. Eat, sleep, work, repeat. I read these blogs of people who have interesting stories and thought provoking moments everyday. As I was considering the idea that either I live life on autopilot or these people are liars, I could hear Shelby in the bathroom playing in the sink. Moments before she had come in the office and announced that her chin was sticky, and it was from ice cream she had eaten earlier. I could hear the water trickle and then turn on full blast and fade down to a trickle. This cycle continued for about 5 minutes. Frustrated, Mandy began to spout threats. "Shelby! Turn off the water!" "Shelby! Go get in bed! NOW!" Each time the water shut off, but would slowly come back on. She was Testing her boundaries. Finally, I backed Mandy and threw in a "Go to bed, Shelby!" and Mandy delivered the final ultimatum "Shelby! Go get in bed or I'm gonna come and spank your bum!" The water turned off and from Walker's room I heard a giddy whisper, "YES!" As Walker quietly expressed his hope of justice upon his sister. Shelby realized the threats were too severe and with a quick pitter patter gallop she trotted back to her room and dove into her bed. Walker was obviously disappointed.
Someone smarter than me could probably extract a life lesson out of that story. Me... I just sat here and said "Huh! That there was funny! I'm gunna type that sitch-eation, so's that other people can maybe read bout it too!"
I have realized that these stories happen to me all day long but when I sit down in front of the computer, it is as if the RAM in my brain gets wiped clean. I have vague recollections of maybe putting shoes on this morning, perhaps doing something, or was that a dream? I think I ate lunch... but what was it? and then I finish my blog and suddenly my memory comes back. I call it the Wal-Mart syndrome. Every time I go there I march up to the store repeating over and over again, my list of items I need. I bust past the automatic doors grab a cart, mutter a greeting to the greeter and POOF! My memory is gone. My mind goes blank, my eyes dilate and a dabble of drool gathers and leaps from my bottom lip as if it can no longer stand to be trapped on this cognicent-less vessel. I see bright lights, happy yellow smiley faces gleefully declaring low prices "Is that a good price?" I wonder "What is the standard price for a stuffed leprechaun clutching a shamrock to his chest with a creepy grin on his face? Do I need one of those? How many shall I get? Is that an appropriate anniversary present? What about Christmas? Who am I married to again? What is my name? Where am I? Does that guy have a mullet? Oh my! The whole family has mullets! Where did they find those White Snake tour shirts? I think their toddler has beer in it's sippy and a cigarette tucked behind it's ear! Oh look! Preparation H is on sale! What is this stuff anyway? Is it an appropriate anniversary gift?" Several hours go by as I slowly shuffle down each aisle gathering random items based on how pretty they look not really sure what their intended use is. I find myself at the cash register the cashier saying "That's $587.96" I smile not really remembering the appropriate response. After a pause she prods me "Sir, will that be cash or do you have a card?" I smile with a certain bit of confusion. She continues, having grown accustomed to sufferers of the Wal-Mart syndrome. "SIR! Do you have a wallet?" I look around confused. I think she might be asking if I have a mullet. I don't think I do... but do I? I feel the back of my head to see if I do. The cashier sighs and says "Look in you pockets! What is in your pockets?" I feel in my pocket and produce my wallet. The cashier gestures showing me how to open the wallet. I smile and show her the picture on my driver's license "It's me!" I say to her proudly. She groans and reaches over and removes my debit card and hands it to me and tells me to swipe it through the reader. Somehow I can't remember my name but I remember a random series of numbers my bank has assigned me to access my funds. I wave good bye to my cashier friend as I shove my cart towards the door. The greeter says good bye to me. I take out my wallet and show him my driver's license. "It's me!" I proudly show him. He pats my back and pushes me towards the doors. Before I leave I pause and shout good bye to all of my friends at Wal-mart. I step out into the fresh air. The sun is bright and I squint. I suddenly recall my name, where I live, who I am married to, why I came to this store. I am pissed! What the Hell do I need all of this crap for? I snatch the receipt out of the cart and head back in to return it... all of it! The automatic doors recoil in shame as I storm by them. Suddenly I see the leprechauns, "Is that a fair price for leprechauns?" I wonder.