What idiot ever said pregnant women glow must’ve been on crack, and some bad crack at that. I don’t flipping glow. Not even with 5 metric tons of bronzer!
Saturday night I thought I’d do things early, for once in my life, and I headed to Wal-Mart to buy CoolTeen’s school supplies. Who knows what I was thinking. Apparently I wasn’t thinking.The entire time I was there my pants kept falling down, even though I had the stupid, worthless belly band on. What a load of crap. Wasted $12 just so my pants could keep falling down. Great. Anyhow, I had a pen and list in the buggy, and thought Cookie would be content playing with them. Nope. Instead she wanted to play the fun game of “throw the damn pen down 500 times just to see mom have severe reflux problems”. Now THAT made her happy.
Might I add, whatever lame-o teacher made the school supply list for the 7th graders must be in cahoots with the Anti-christ, in a conspiracy against me. For instance, the list called for FOUR SMALL glue sticks. Did they sell packs of 4 small glue sticks? Don’t bet your life on it! 2 packs of Jumbo sticks (but they requested small), or 3 packs of small (and I wasn’t buying 6), but NOWHERE to be found were a pack of 4 small glue sticks. Evil people. I wanted to rip one out of another container so I could have the 4 small ones I needed. How about 12 fine-tipped washable markers. Nope. I settled for 10. Or even better, 3 70-page spiral notebooks. HOLY PISS! You’ve got to be kidding me! It’s a conspiracy, so don’t try to convince me otherwise. After finishing up the list as best as possible, I headed on to get more crap I needed. Little did I know…it would’ve been better if I’d just left at that point. But OH NO…I’m a glutton for punishment.
Some idiot hell bent on pushing me over the edge started sneezing. Not just once, twice, heck – even five or six times? Nope. TWENTY-FOUR! Because I counted! Because I have nothing better to complain about! Around Sneeze No. 12 I started huffing. Apparently he couldn’t hear my exasperation from the aisle over, so by the time Sneeze No. 19 happened I yelled to Cookie, “Holy s.P.i.t. Go outside and sneeze!” (Because surely he was sneezing on purpose, right? And I’m pretty sure he could’ve controlled whatever allergies he was having problems with, right?) WHO FREAKING SNEEZES 24 TIMES?!?!?!?! Nobody I want to be friends with, idiot.After venting my frustration, I breezed on to look at the Bissle Little Green cleaner. I really want one, which is unusual enough for me to “want” a cleaning product (since I’m allergic to cleaning). I’m checking it out, all proud at myself for being so “mature”. Right. Cookie could see right through me.
While I was looking at that, Cookie was on the other side of the buggy putting in three 15-packs of colored hangers. We got a few aisles over when she got pissed at me and threw a pack of hangers at me.That’s another thing I’m writing to the congressman about – who decided to put 1 measly little piece of cardboard on these hangers to hold them together? Before I could realize what was happening, the hangers flew threw the air, broke out of their “box” and landed all over the floor. As I bent down, cussing, and trying to pick them up, TWO MORE bunches of kamikaze hangers came at me. I was putting them in one side, and she was throwing them out the other. A Wal-Mart associate came through about that time, and gave me the look like “Oh, there’s another kid I’m going to have to clean up after.” That did it. I decided then and there I wouldn’t put them back in their packages…I was rebelling! I took a giant pile of multi-colored hangers and smashed them on top of a random clothes rack and left them there. Take that!
Eventually I’d had enough, so I drug my stupid cart up to the check out line. Waited a good 20 minutes at least. This is the FIRST time I ever opened a drink and chips while in the checkout line. I’ve seen other people do it, but it’s just something I haven’t done (on the very short list of stuff I’ve not done). That night it was an exception. Cookie wouldn’t shut up, and desperately wanted Cheetos. I was so thirsty, and the Dr. Pepper was calling my name. Hey – it was no margarita, but it would do. I polished that sucker off by the time we got to the cash register.
Guess what happened? KARMA HAPPENED. Did my check card work? Nope. How about the credit card? Uh, no. Because satan lives at Wal-Mart. I thought I had the problem figured out, so I went to another lane (at the return counter) and stood in line again. I told the girl how it was probably my fault for being so horrible the entire time at the store, and that I probably just needed to repent. She took my card, and I casually said, “If it doesn’t work this time, I’ll just smash it into a million pieces.” 30 seconds later…..I’m sorry, it didn’t accept it. “HOLY HELL! YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!” She looked at me and said softly, “What was that you said about repenting?” Ehx-cuse-meh? Please don’t be preaching to me (even though I just said the same thing 1 minute earlier.) My card finally worked for $2.33 for the drink and chips. Figures.And just think….I’ve got nearly 8 more glorious months of this.
Warning. Talk to me at your own risk….and if you’re extra sensitive, just don’t talk to me at all. I don’t want to be responsible for making you unhappy, crybaby. And if you still talk to me…well – you asked for it.