Wonderous WalMart

So, the other night a miraculous event occured..... I was able to go to WalMart by myself. I didn't have to take anyone with me. I was completely alone. Nobody to place in carseats, remove from carseats, place in buggy, make sit down in buggy, tell no for grabbing things off shelves, comfort when crying because of aforementioned discipline, threaten with random violence, explain that random violent acts mentioned simply mean: stop what you are doing.

Needless to say, I was giddy! Before kids going to WalMart is no big life-changing event. Yes, perhaps WalMart was where you would go on a Friday or Saturday night, if you were like me and too dorky and scared of hellfire and damnation to go out partying like your other deliquent peers. How is it that just a few years later WalMart is both the bane of my existence and a blessing all at the same time?

WalMart with kids= torture. Seriously, we should consider using that as a prison torture tactic.... the United States would have gotten much farther with the prisoners in Guantanamo if they'd sent them one at a time with a car load of small children to WalMart with a list of things to buy (none of them being candy or toys) and a limited time frame. Perhaps they should've made it at the childrens naptime and make sure they didn't have a great nights sleep the night before. All of this added together would've been plenty for every prisoner to be begging for forgiveness and giving up the whereabouts of Bin Laden. Alas, the United States Government has yet to call me asking for the solutions to all of the worlds problems, so the WalMart torture scheme is still reserved for worn out mothers.

WalMart without kids= (depressingly) exciting. I say depressingly because I never once thought growing up that escaping to WalMart by myself would be the highlight of my day. Heck, make that my week! But if you are like me, you completely understand what I mean. As a mom we usually feel guilty for leaving our children for any extended period of time. Mommy guilt will eat you alive and spit you back out. You feel guilty for taking a whole day to meander around from store to store browsing through clothing & accessories. WalMart, however, gives you a reprive from that guilt. Everyone has to have food (WalMart), kids need diapers, socks, school supplies (WalMart), birthday gifts, anniversary presents, cosmetics, medicine, pet supplies, home & garden.... WalMart, WalMart, WalMart! I am giddy just thinking about wandering from aisle to aisle looking at the latest bargain that I DON'T need, add to that seeing other adults that don't expect you to wipe their butts, and WalMart by yourself is like a mini-vacation.

So, the other night I get to go to WalMart. I get into the van (yes, I drive a minivan.... more on that story another day) and head off to my destination. I listen to the radio and sing songs that you can't listen to with innocent ears around. I pretend to be cool singing, ignoring the fact that I probably look like a fool to the passing cars. I pull into the parking lot and snag a primo parking spot (a sign that I've been living my life right). Upon putting the car into park I came to a startling conclusion..... I was still in my pajamas.... at nine o'clock at night. I hadn't brushed my hair..... ALL day. AND I had Hadley spit up all down the back of my shirt.

Now I don't know what's the saddest part of my little story. The fact that I didn't realize all of this before leaving the house or the fact that I was so excited to be at WalMart that I still went in looking like I did and held my head up high? I was so giddy to be all by myself that I could've been wearing nothing but a tutu and tennis shoes and I STILL would've attempted to make my shopping trip.

And THAT my friends is the power of the Wonderous WalMart.... making tired mommies forget their fashion senses since 1962. (actual opening date of walmart for you history buffs)