Let me clarify that a bit. I have a tendency to do redneck things from time to time. Or perhaps just brain dead things. Sometimes those two words collide though, don't they? Especially for inhabitants of the South Land?
Right?
After two weeks of being stuck in the house for various reasons (rain and/or sick children), our pantry needed to be reminded of it's reason for existing. Saturday night after dinner I nursed Anna, kissed my children good-bye, and headed out the door. Armed with my list, I was ready to tackle Wal-Mart.
It dawned on me that I was actually childless for a grocery shopping trip and that I could take the time to meander up and down the aisles at my leisure, to take in the amazing selection of junk food. I was really able to think about what I needed to make certain dishes, and without the chatter of little people, I had time to come up with some different dinner ideas.
As I finished up in the grocery section, I moved onto the baby area. Diapers? Check. Wipes? Check. I noticed that footed pajamas were beginning to be clearanced out and since Thomas was devastated that his last years pajamas were entirely too small for him, I checked to see if they had any in his size. Not that he needs any more pajamas but I thought I would check. Besides, I was by myself! I had plenty of time and the ability to think without my sweet little interrupters.
I moseyed on around the store, just looking at stuff. Trying to figure out if there were things we needed that I hadn't written on my list. I browsed all the toys that were marked down, thinking ahead to birthdays. I took a spin through domestics, looking at sheets and colors and dishes and towels and kitchen utensils. Just perusing, you understand. Basking in the aloneness.
People, I was WAL-MARTIN'!
Finally, I decided that it was probably time to leave. There must have been something in the air. As I headed towards the registers I realized that, true to the company's nature, there were only about a quarter as many lanes opened as there needed to be. I picked a line that looked promising and settled in for the wait. A magazine caught my eye so I picked it up. I had taken in well over half of the magazine's pages filled with prettily decorated rooms and lovely gardens by the time the conveyor belt had room for me to start tossing groceries up.
As I paid and gathered up the last of my bags I glanced around me and noticed a couple of teenage girls looking at me and looking something between horrified and humored. I wondered if maybe my hair was sticking out oddly or perhaps I had managed to rub up against something that had rubbed off onto my clothing. Being the super self-conscious kind of girl that I am, I shrugged it off and made my way out of the store.
I was walking past the people greeter when I looked down and noticed it. I'd been walking all over Wal-Mart, a highly public place, in my house shoes. I had neglected to put on real shoes in my anxiousness to get out of the house and take care of business unassisted.
Help! I'm in need of redneck intervention!!!!!
3 comments:
I am cracking up...but hey, who knows, maybe you'll start a new trend! Next time you go to Wal-mart, you will probably see those same girls wearing their house shoes...
HA!! Made a run for it, did you? I do the same thing. I LOVE grocery shopping on my own. Of course, I end up spending about three times as much as when I have the little ones with me, but on the upside, I buy ingredients that will actually make a meal.
What? You can't wear slippers to the store? Well, don't tell any of us city-folk.
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