Finally. I put my receipt in my bag and start to push my shopping cart towards the front of the store. It has been one of those days. My husband has been working so much lately that I have been reduced to bringing all FOUR children to Wal-Mart with me. When you see a mom in a store with a lot of kids hanging on her, I can promise you she is not there with her children because she has a choice. Between the crying of the two year olds and the incessant pleas for anything and everything by the six and nine year olds, it is not a fun experience. Sometimes, I think it would save me a lot of energy if I bought a parrot that is trained to say no. For some strange reason that is completely unexplainable to me, complete strangers always feel the need to make a comment in situations like this. Today was, “You’ve got your hands full.” Really? I always feel like breaking out the lyrics from “I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar.”
“If I have to I can face anything
I am strong (strong)
I am invincible (invincible)
I am woman
Oh, I am woman
I am invincible
I am strong.”
To top everything off, my twin tornado boys have decided the “Let’s throw everything out of the cart so mommy can put it back in” game was a must. I just need to get out of here. My excitement starts to rise as I spot the greeter standing at the entrance/exit. How sweet a sight! I start picking up speed while I catch someone familiar out of the corner of my eye. Right as I put up my hand and start to wave to my sweet friend Jamee’s husband, I hear an explosion. At my feet. My kids have a radar for the precise time to embarrass mommy most. I swear they do. Before I can even assess the situation laughter reaches my ears. I hear another explosion. Oh, no. Thing one and Thing two are tag teaming and having a ball. By now I see the problem. They have reached into the grocery bags and proceeded to throw out the large spot light bulbs I just purchased. I quickly throw them a “mommy glare,” you know the one that makes you scared to make a sound. I look back up and catch my friend’s wide eyed stare. One that says both, “I can’t believe they just did that.” And “I am so glad they aren’t mine.” I obviously don’t have anything to clean the mess up with and if I just stand here to keep people from stepping in it, no one will come clean up the mess (remember this is Wal-Mart, not Target). I decide to run for it before any more explosions occur. I reach the greeter and explain the situation, point out the area with the broken glass the boys left in their wake. She gave me a slightly annoyed look as I made a break for it. Honestly, did she expect me to stick around to see if she could catch a show of more of my spot lights meeting an early demise?
Sometimes after a stressful day I read the bible or drink a glass of wine. That night, I did both.