Once Again, The Third Degree

Seems like Mrs. Hillbilly Mom can't make it through a trip to The Devil's Playground without getting the third degree.

Where did that expression even come from, the third degree? I had never really contemplated the origin before, but last week, I saw it on some show on the History Channel, I think, about freemasonry. Supposedly it's a step in becoming a master mason, and an interrogation ceremony is included. Don't quote me on that. I like a good conspiracy theory as well as the next person, and finding out about freemasonry is something that would appeal to me. But on that day, I was preoccupied with something else, so I didn't get the full story.

Anyhoo...there I was again in line at The Devil's Playground. One of the items in my cart was this:

Nom-nom! Mini cupcakes! And these are CONFETTI cupcakes! Which, if I've assumed correctly, will be like that confetti cake mix I buy to make birthday cakes, which is vanilla with colored sprinkles throughout, and has a bit of a coconut taste (at least to me).

Of course, the Devil's Handmaiden always has to interrogate me. This was a different Handmaiden altogether, but still, she saw fit to hold up my item and pontificate.

"Where did you find these?"

"In the deli area."

"IN the deli? Or by it?"

"Well. Over at the side. By the bread. On a table with different kinds of cupcakes."

"They're only a dollar."

I didn't know that. Since they don't put the gosh-darn price on there. The man behind me crowded up. I swear, he was standing right in front of the card-scanner. I don't know why he had to be in my back pocket like that. How was I going to jam my card in there to pay?

"Good thing I didn't see 'em, or I'd have got them. And I don't need 'em!"

Well. Obviously, I'm such a heifer that I DO need them, so much that I stand here buying them with no shame in front of The Devil and everybody, with his Handmaiden holding them aloft for all to see, while continuing her discourse.

"My grandson has a birthday coming up. I might go get some for his party."

Okay then. Go get some cheap cupcakes for your grandson! That doesn't mean I have to be delayed here for my purchases to be debated.

SHEESH! It's not like I was buying a dozen full-size sheet-cakes, and was stuffing my face with chunks I'd ripped out of one while shopping. It's a little pack of mini cupcakes. CONFETTI! Just let me buy my cupcakes in peace already.

Nobody ever asks me about my romaine lettuce.