I usually grocery shop on Friday evenings because Derek tends to stay late at the hospitals. I enjoy my weekly date with Trader Joe himself as I pick up a bunch of flowers along with our weekly needs. Last week, when I got home, I realized I had left my milk in the little red cart. Luckily, Derek kindly grabbed some on his way home Saturday afternoon so it wasn't a big deal. We went along our week, having our granola bowls filled with milk and not thinking a thing about the lone & forgotten gallon in the red cart Friday night. All week, I realized my car smelled funky, and after a couple days I had enough. I started looking in every crack and crevasse of my car and came up with nothing but a couple pennies that had fallen in the cracks & a lost pen. I decided to check the trunk, and when I opened it, my knees hit the floor. The stench was so awful. It was there, right in front of me, a full gallon of milk hidden in the turquoise reusable bag. I quickly grabbed it, bag and all and chucked that, what I can only assume, chunky milk into the dumpster. This past Friday, I made sure to tell my cashier "Can you not bag the milk, please?" because, lets face it, I don't think my car (or stomach!) could handle another case of the forgotten milk.