Frozen Pea Paw

Lynn was working out in her garage when the phone rang. She ran inside the house, sweaty and angry, stepped over two of her kids and clumsily picked up the receiver. “What is it?” she barked.

The caller seemed caught by surprise. “Angie B-b-owers?” he said, “of 11 Maple Ave? Congratulations! You are winner of the Pick-n-shop Happy Homes contest.” Angie was skeptical at first, but then remembered the moment she entered the contest. Finally an answer to her prayers!

A chance to compete in Pick-n-shop Happy Homes game show! It’s a lot like that old game show where you race around a supermarket frantically filling up your cart; except with a giant shopping cart and your filling it with furniture and home appliances

I’d been a huge game show nut since my days of sitting on peepaw’s lap watching Family Feud. The fond memories were what motivated me to win, and win big. I grabbed my cart and prepared to run.

Over the squeak of the stuck back wheel my mind raced at the idea of what a sweep would mean to me. How to measure glory beyond the pounds of frozen peas I would haul home? Besides peepaw, only one person knew the truth.

That truth was: I detest peas. Ugh. Horrid little things. They look like a fruit, taste like a vegetable. Are they more like beans or broccoli? Yucko! Fresh, frozen, or canned, they could all disappear forever, as far as I was concerned. Just then, inspiration struck! I would