Mom thinks I'm building a bomb. (amusing tales of supply runs)
Today I was left to my own devices, so I took mom's bike and rode a fair distance to the nearby Ace hardware, because I wanted to price buckets and ammonia, since I know Ace sells safe, pure ammonia usable for fishless cycling. I'm not sure what compelled me to do this, as between my house and Ace are two massive hills, so my legs are now devoid of all feeling.
I discovered that that particular Ace only sold ammonia in gallon jugs. Obviously, that's a bit much for cycling a single 2.5 gallon tank, so I just priced it and left. When mom later got home I told her of my adventure on a bike, and that I learned Ace sold ammonia only by the gallon, and she gave me an odd look and was all, "Are you building a bomb?"
It wasn't like I could tell her I was pricing ammonia for cycling purposes, considering I'm not supposed to have anything to do with fish ownership.
So, that's my funny story for the day. Anyone else have an amusing story of the trials of supply runs?
(At the moment, I'm killing time watching my computer backup files to my new ExHD. 500gbs, yet so very adorably tiny.)