When you live in the South, Walmart is just a part of life. You can make six stops, which for me equals unloading and reloading three children twelve times, or you can go to Walmart and get everything from your sleeping pills to your chicken livers to your flat tire fixed. No joke. You can buy cow tongue and fluffy bath towels in the same store. Who'd have ever thunk it? The idea of that much less work is just way too appealing to me. I am a one stop kinda girl these days! However, I am also willing to pay a babysitter well so that I don't have to take the short people with me when I go to Walmart. The way I look at it, I'm paying the sitter what I would have spent on the extra things they begged me to buy, so financially it's a wash. Plus, I get to shop in peace. I wander up and down every single aisle (so it will take longer) and make no apologies about it! I smile sympathetically at the women with bratty kids who are lying the middle of the cereal aisle screaming, and they look at me as if to say, "If you had kids, you would understand." Oh, I understand, lady. I understand more than you know. I'm simply on a break. As an added bonus, I get to listen to the radio station of my choice on the way there and back without Shrek on the DVD player behind my head blaring in my ears. It's heavenly.
Yesterday, I made an epic trip to Walmart. What made it even better was that I didn't plan it that way, it just happened spontaneously. Coincidence? I think not.
So there I was...doing my weekly grocery shopping. I was getting the usual: four different kinds of cereal, milk, diapers, eggs, bread. I guess I should mention that I did have five pregnancy tests in my cart. Calm down, calm down! I am not now, nor do I wish to become pregnant. Spoiler alert: They are for the cover of my book, which I hope to have published before my kids are in college.
I really wish I could do justice to the strange looks you get when strolling through Walmart with five pregnancy tests in your cart. I finally looked at one lady who was staring openly and said with a smile, "I just want to be sure." She was speechless.
I was headed to the checkout line when the phone rang. It was my husband. Was I still at Walmart? Why, yes, I was! Would I like to make a detour? Sure, why not? He then proceeded to describe the water moccasin in our lake that was roughly the size of his forearm. Would I swing by the sporting goods department and pick up some ammunition? Absolutely! As I have never actually purchased such a thing, I admit it was rather exciting. Redneck woman on a mission!
I got the box of bullets without showing any identification (which both surprised and worried me a little) and headed to the front of the store. Since it was a rather long walk, I started thinking about what was in my cart. When I started unloading it onto the conveyor belt, I started giggling and couldn't stop. Where else in the world can you buy men's underwear, bullets, and pregnancy tests all in the same shopping trip?
When I told my husband the contents of my cart, he looked at me and said, "You gonna make some SOB admit that he's your Baby Daddy, aren't you?" Holy freakin cow, I really am a redneck! I gotta go have my roots done. Dr. Phil, here I come.
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