Epiphany

I had an epiphany whilst weaving through the hordes at Wal-Mart. But before I share, picture this...

Cart in grip and feet shuffling, I dodged the crowded aisle while making my selections and hoping for a short check out. Then it happened -- a crowded intersection between the children's clothes, cereal, and frozen freezer rack almost turned nasty. Seeing the accident waiting to happen, I hooked a quick left into the shoe department, rushed around the size 8 1/2 ladies pumps, and resumed my trek through the dairy department.

So, that light bulb moment I was telling you about? Well, folks, The Death Star isn't merely a cesspool of one stop shopping. No, no, and no. Now, it will forever and always remind me of... Pac Man.

Blinky, Pinkie, Inky, and Clyde = the shoppers, employees, children, and pallets destined to make you work. While the strawberry, banana, and cherry prizes are the sales that lure you into the pit of Hell in the first place.

I knew my stint as a reigning champ at the local skating ring would come in handy at some point in my life (still waiting for the fruits of my labor on Battle Axe). Please excuse me while I go call my father and inform him video games are in fact worth something.

The Holiday Season

Ahhh the holiday season. A time of joy, peace, serenity, good will toward men...A time of greed, insanity, price checking and psyching out the woman about to purchase the last 2008 Christmas Barbie from the shelf at the local Hell-Mart.

Lady, if you wanted the doll that badly, all you had to do was say so. Snatching it off the shelf before my hand made it to the box only made you look moronic and quite sad. But don't fret, there are only 3 other Wal-marts in our general vicinity, and my daughter will be content with or without a plastic doll wrapped in glitter and lace.

Happy Holidays.

Cousin "It"

Tonight, while at Hell-Mart, I noticed a teenage boy with his parents. Why did I notice this one boy in particular in the midst of all these strangers? The truth is - his hair.

His face was completely covered, from forehead to chin, with thin and greasy strands.

I watched him with his family as they walked the aisle, wondering how in the hell he could see, staring even though it was wrong.

I once told my Mom I'd prefer to have an emo child rather than rear a football player or cheerleader (weird? maybe. But I was a 'dark side' kinda gal in High School myself) but after seeing cousin IT...I think cheering on the sports team isn't so bad.

Smooth move X-Lax

Today I decided to attempt a venture out to Hell-Mart, all kids in tow. This is the first time I've ever braved the market alone with all of them. I'd also decided that if they behaved we'd visit the toy section for something small as a reward.

The trip to the store was uneventful, as we parked and piled out the children listened beautifully, forming a line and holding hands. I was so proud. We went inside, got a cart and off we went. After I made my selections we went to the toy department. We ended up spending more time there than intended but they still did me proud and as we left I decided since it was late to splurge on McD's Happy Meals and ice cream cones.

First I should say, I was stupid to consider this without going inside the store. I pulled up, placed our order and put the Happy Meals to the side. I passed the small cones to each child and pulled out into traffic. Maybe it was my intense pride that karma needed to bitch slap down to earth but I was about to start a headlong dive into hell.

I'm driving along...

"NO ICE CREAM CONE!" Vincent thrusts his arm holding his barely touched cone out.

"Aw come on Vince..."

"NO ICE CREAM CONE!" I realize immediately this will go one of two ways and sure enough he reaches to place it into the cup holder.

"Wait! Give to Mommy!" I reach back and grab it. I start looking as I drive for a trash can.

"Here Mommy." It's Logan this time. He's pushing is cone at me as well.

"Not you too! Eat your cone please."

"No." He keeps holding his arm out. I maneuver the cone I'm currently holding over to my left hand and grab it.

At this point I am trying to drive while also licking the cones alternately to avoid ice cream all over myself and the car. It's a losing battle. I can't keep up. Then by the grace of god I see a trash can! I hit my turn signal and start to turn when I hear it. A strange yet familiar watery sound...oh shit, the drinks!

I get to the trash can and throw away the cones. I then spend the next few minutes cleaning up the cokes I just spilled with napkins. At this point I'm cursing myself for ever leaving the comfort and security of my house. I get back into the driver's seat and begin hurrying home...when my irritable bowel attacks...from the ice cream I just gulped down.

As I'm driving I'm praying I don't have an accident. I feel like I'm about to die. I pull into the driveway and begin herding the children into the house. I leave everything else in the van to take care of business because some shit (excuse the pun) just won't wait.

When I'm done I go back outside and empty the van. I get the kids situated and comfortable when Annabel begins to cry. She's hungry. I grab her and get her fed before sitting down at the desk

Off to a rocky start, summer scoreboard:

Kids=1
Mom=O

Hell-Mart's Evil Employees

What is up with Hell-Mart and rude employees??? This isn't the first time I've been treated rudely by them but it is the first time I finally spoke up.

I had to go into the store to purchase a few things. I had Vince and Annabel with me, both riding in the cart, being awesome little people. We grab our things and hurry to the express checkout. I place my things on the counter and start looking around for the cashier. I see her standing near the doors, talking to another employee. I finish and stand there and wait...she finally ends her conversation and comes over. She rings it up, I pay, and off we go to the doors.

As I'm approaching the doors I see a door greeter. She's in her 40's with very long dark hair that reaches past her hips. She looks directly up at me and we make eye contact. I give a smile and she just stares back, looks me up, then down, the looks away! No smile, no 'thank you' no 'come again'. Just her hateful freaking glare.

So I did what I've always wanted to do. I turned to her and said, "no one forced you to be a door greeter, you should find another job", and I walked out.

She didn't say anything but she didn't need to. It felt so good saying that to her face. I'm so tired of paying money to be treated like crap. Maybe next time she'll see me coming and smile, or better yet maybe she'll have found another job that doesn't require her being nice to the public.