Not too long ago, I spent an hour in wal-mart. Yes, you can feel sorry for me.
I, of course, picked a cart that veered to the left every time I tried to push it but I was already halfway through the store. I was committed.
I loaded the cart with cases of beer & bottles of wine for the party on Saturday
(Yes, we’re those people that serve alcohol at our kid’s 1st birthday party. I like being those people.)
Then I added several 12 packs of soda, a 24 pack of water, a few boxes of crackers, chips & dip, pita bread and hummus.
I pulled up to the young cashier and began to unload my groceries and (of course) Madison started pitching a fit and throwing her sippy cup on the ground.
I picked up each case of beer and package of soda as this kid just watched me. He waited until the entire conveyer was filled and never once offered to help.
I overlooked it because I thought surely he’ll put it back in the car once he rings it up. He does see that my kid is losing her mind and I’m sweating, right?
He piled the sodas & beer on top of the bag station. Filled my canvas totes with the rest of the groceries (I’m eco-friendly, its hip) and watched me load everything back into my cart.
I mumbled how helpful people were as I desperately tried to wheel my left veering heavy cart out of the store. I was angry and thinking about how I couldn’t wait to blog about what a jerk the kid was and how karma can suck.
I got to my car, started it and prepared to pick up everything for the FOURTH time to load it into my car when someone decided they wanted my parking spot and waited. (tangent: I’ll never understand this…. it will be faster to park further and walk then it will be to wait for me to load my almost 1 year old and all of my groceries into my car).
So what did I do? I started to get small heart palpitations because I was exhausted, mad and now I felt like I was being rushed.
And just as I was formulating my tweet for when I got home (you know you do it, don’t lie) a lovely Walmart employee walked up and said, “Why don’t you let me unload your cart for you while you take care of that sweet baby?”
“ZOMG thank you! I exclaimed to him.”
I started to go off on how we were going to have to get creative because I forgot to take the stroller out of the trunk and I’m not really sure how I’m going to fit everything in here anyway when he told me not to worry. He has a four year old and knows all about the challenges of a bulky stroller in a small trunk.
By the time I got Madison buckled in everything was unloaded and I had to resist the urge to ask him to ride home with me to unload all this crap.
He looked at me, smiled and said “I hope you have a really wonderful evening.”
“You too, kind stranger. You too.”
I left with a smile on my face.
Until I realized I forgot little smokies, plastic cups and mustard.