Nobody puts Amy in a corner

I carried a watermelon.

Well not quite. Any movie buff will know Baby from "Dirty Dancing" carried a watermelon.

But come Friday, I'll be proudly announcing to Seth the Southern Charmer a similar feat.

I carried a box of Wheat Thins. 1250 miles.

And then promptly wondering....huh. Now why the heck did I do that?

When announcing to my best friend Jim last night that all my bags were packed, and ready to go, with my Wheat Thins of course, for Florida there was only one logical question to be asked.

"Um. Why are you bringing a box of Wheat Thins?"

Well simple duh. When out doing my wifely, err, excuse me, girlfriendly duties and picking up the essentials for Florida for both Seth and I, like sunscreen, aloe vera, etc., I of course made that coupley phone call.

"Is there anything else you want me to pick up hon?"

His response: A box of Wheat Thins. Which, without a second thought, I threw in my Target cart and ran off happily to the checkout line.

Jim picked up on the ridiculousness of it all. I'm carrying a box of Wheat Thins. 1250 miles. They'll go through security to make sure they don't explode upon take off. Get manhandled by the baggage people. Hopefully will remain untouched by any of my shampoo, conditioner and perfume. And eventually, somewhere around 11 p.m. eastern time Friday night, will come to their resting place at the Comfort Suites.

Just one box of Wheat Thins. Last time I checked, like the word catholic, Wheat Thins are universal. So why put them through the added stress of flying to Orlando? Especially when I'm pretty sure they don't hand out chocolate chip cookies to checked bags, even though it is Midwest?

I have no clue. Maybe it's something about being a good girlfriend. All those added extra Wheat Thins miles have to help.