Oh, I’m sorry was I standing on your foot?

I cannot stand when the people around me are oblivious to life happening around them. While standing in line, I am usually waiting for the person in front of me to move 3 feet forward so I can start unloading my cart. Nope, they’d rather wait until the cashier hits total and then they can start deciding how they feel like paying. Only after they’ve paid and taken the time to go over the receipt, put their change into the correct wallet compartment and look through as many bags as it takes to make sure they were charged accordingly will they move.

Now, I’m in a race with the cashier to get the crap outta my cart faster than she can scan it. I have a little OCD with how I like to put my items on the belt, when I don’t have those 30 seconds to arrange everything perfectly; I have a major panic attack. Then I get to deal with the d-bag behind me shoving his cart up my ass while I unload. That or I have his kids pawing at my ice cream bars. Back it up, jerkoff.

I went to the cable company the other day to exchange our modem. I have literally 10 minutes to complete this task. Every time I pass this little Charter office, I never see any customers. This time, I wrangle the twins past Grandpa Wrinkles in the convertible and hustle them inside were I find Grandma Wrinkles deep into conversation with the single employee discussing her and Grandpa Wrinkles last vacation. 

Meanwhile, the twins are hanging off of ceiling, pulling down every movie poster and picking up some weird phone stuck on the wall with a cord! (A CORD! Is it 1985?) So rather than move it along, Grandma leans on the counter and dangles her shoe off of her foot while jacking her jaw. Grandpa runs in and says, “Make sure you find out about Internet. Ask lots of questions!”

I about lost my shit. I said, “Let’s go girls.” And they said, “Why?” I said, “I don’t have time to listen to bullshit, let’s roll.” Grandma didn’t even flinch. That old bag almost got her wig knocked off. I don’t like confrontations, at all. I talk big on the Interwebs, but I really hate to stand up for myself in the real world. I never make a scene; I usually tuck my tail and sneak away. But living in the town that apparently breeds rude, inconsiderate hillbillies has changed me. Hopefully for the better!

Later, there will be another installment of the Wal-Mart Chronicles! Tonight will delve into the Customer Service, Greeters and Cart Wranglers. Stay tuned!

My Children Are Superheroes! Maybe.

How come when I call my children to come to me for whatever reason, say to pick up toys, they seem to be deaf? Sure everyone has talked about their selective hearing, but I don't think it's selective...I think it's that children adapt to their environment.

I can be in the bathroom, hollerin' for one of the kids to get me a roll of toilet paper but I get zero response. I know they're standing right outside the door, I can see their sticky fingers under it wiggling around. So now I'm forced to use a discarded tissue to finish my business. Don't snicker, we've all had to use trashcan contents at one time or another. Don't judge it, because I know you've done it too.

However, if I walk into the kitchen while all 4 kids are in the backyard in a thunderstorm with headphones on and open the freezer to THINK about quietly eating an ice cream bar, They kick the backdoor in, the twins rappel in like the FBI and I'm forced to the ground while Ty is screaming at me through a bullhorn asking if they can all have one.

BTW, only a mother will give up the last ice cream bar and somehow manage to divide it evenly between 4 children. A mother would do this, because she is old enough to drive (hopefully) out to the gas station in the middle of the night to get more ice cream. Of course once she returns to the car, at least one child will have popped up in the backseat to scare the mother half to death. Thus forcing her to have to share the treat lest it melts into her tears and is wasted.

Where was I? Oh right, I think children have excellent hearing and snack makers have made sure to make wrappers uncrinkling to the exact decibel that sends children into sugar rage. Of course my dumb kids eat my hidden fruits, so how do they know how to find it? Excellent sight...another post I think is warranted!