Reset: Bananas, Side Quests, and Mental Carts
From Hot Tamale Peeps to mental overload—how five quiet minutes can save your cart (and your sanity).
It started with bananas.
Just bananas. That was the mission.
But here’s the problem, and the reason my wife flat-out refuses to shop with me anymore…
I never just go in for bananas.
First stop: produce sweep.
What’s on sale? Can I convince the boys that “kiwi is basically an apple…
but fuzzier”?
Then it’s the discount rack.
Because who can resist 25-cent Hot Tamale Peeps?
Are they edible? No.
Are they hilarious to make your kids try on video? Absolutely.
And just when I circle back to the bananas, boom, another detour: protein bars for Hunter.
This kid will eat anything: Mexican, Indian, Chinese.
Whatever you throw at him.
But peanut butter and chocolate? Hard pass.
And apparently that’s the one combo protein bar companies swore an oath never to separate.
So there I am, aisle three, reading every label like it’s a legal contract, praying for something that won’t make him gag.
Chocolate mint? Like brushing your teeth while eating a candy bar.
Birthday cake with sprinkles? Those sprinkles are basically gravel in disguise.
Peanut butter delight? Of course chocolate sneaks in as the second ingredient. False advertising at its finest.
After the 110th defeat, I give up on the protein aisle and toss the Hot Tamale Peeps in the cart, because if I can’t fuel Hunter, at least I can prank the kids.
Meanwhile, the bananas are still waiting patiently back on aisle one, and I’m heading to check out without them.
And that, my friends, is how the mental cart fills.
Not with what I came for.
But with a dozen side quests that felt important in the moment.
The Reflection
This isn’t just a grocery store problem.
It’s a brain problem.
When I don’t start the day with intention, I live like I shop:
chasing side quests.
Impulse buys.
Distracting “solutions.”
Stuff that looks urgent but never adds up to what actually matters.
But when I take five quiet minutes at the start of my day, before the noise starts, I can name what matters.
And I make better choices.
At the store.
At work.
And with my kids.
The Scripture
“Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity.”
—Ephesians 5:15–16 (NIV)
Paul isn’t warning against bad protein bars.
He’s reminding us that wisdom is about clarity, about knowing what matters before the world sells you a distraction.
Last Thought
The truth is, I don’t need a perfect plan.
I just need enough clarity to:
stop chasing side quests,
name what matters,
and be the kind of dad who chooses presence over impulse and bananas over birthday-cake protein bars.




I went specifically for coffee yesterday, among other things, but the coffee was what was needed. Forgot the coffee. lol!
Bananas, side quests, and toddlers in the cart. I came for milk once and left with glow sticks and a watermelon. The cart fills fast when you do not start with a checklist.