Only Me. Only At Walmart.

[trust me, no picture is needed for this entry!]

First of all, on behalf of my husband and child, I want to apologize to the very nice woman and her children who were at Walmart yesterday.  Here's the story to the best of my knowledge::

We leave for the beach next weekend, and none of my bathing suits passed my inspection.  I'll be honest, it's down right nauseating, the way I look in them! But, that's beside the point.  After trying on all 12 of them, I said, "I'm going to Walmart!" Yeah, I know, nothing looks worse on an already bad figure than a Walmart bathing suit, but hey, we're doing good to go to the beach. I can't afford a $100 + suit.  Can't afford the padding, lifting and tummy control suits. It's a real shame too, because that's what I really need!  Anyway, rolling right along... I felt guilty, getting out of the house alone, and asked my husband if he and Stephen wanted to go too.  Darn, they did.

Now, let me just say, it's his own fault. I guess he doesn't remember saying, "I'll never go with you to shop for a bathing suit again!" How soon we forget.  He said it, same time last year! He had Stephen in the shopping cart [or "buggy" as we call it in Alabama] walking around, and leaves me at the bathing suits and says, "We'll meet you back here in five minutes."  I laughed. More like, five hours! Ladies, y'all know how it is! Every single one you see and like, they NEVER have your size! Heck, that would be too easy, now wouldn't it?! So, I ended up just looking at sizes, not for something that I thought was pretty. I found 3 suits in my size. Needless to say, the least of my favorites. I went into the dressing room, and hear the door slam behind me.  I looked around, and looked up to notice the ceiling tiles seemed to all be in place. I'm funny about that.  I hate shedding my clothing in Walmart dressing rooms. I feel like, even though the door is locked, it's too exposed and loud.  I "feel" like I'm being watched. I mean, really...I'd hate for someone to see me, and lose their lunch.

Meanwhile, hubby and child are walking around Wally-World, and circle around the women's clothing every now and again to not find me.

Stephen decides to pitch a good old-fashioned fit about sitting in the cart. Hubby gives in and lets him out. [big, mistake. Never do that when you're with him alone!]  When Stephen doesn't want to walk or cooperate in any way, he'll sit his little butt down right there. There is no reasoning with him. You have to physically pick him up and move him. This is when he decided he would try to embarrass daddy by whining, crying and laying flat on his back. That doesn't work with mama anymore. He knows the consequence.  Daddy doesn't have the pleasure of being with Stephen one on one as much as I do, and he didn't know what was coming. In the middle of my husband's embarrassing moment, trying to talk Stephen into getting off the floor, he hears a voice:: "Is that Stephen?" Husband :: "Uhh, yeah." [forcing a smile, I am sure] I can only imagine the sweat and embarrassment pouring off of his face.  Lady:: "Aw!! I read your wife's journal! Kids, this is Stephen! You know, the little boy who threw lambchop in the oven last week?!" Husband is cussing me out, inside his head. [out loud when in the car] As Stephen laid in the floor, flat on his back, refusing to get up, his daddy tried to talk and act like he wasn't the least bit embarrassed... ::insert evil grin here:: I know so well how that is! He says that he knows he came across as rude and feels bad about it now.

Gee, I didn't know what was going on! I'm in the dressing room, having a nervous breakdown of my own!  The lights in Walmart are NOT flattering! As my bottom lip was shaking, I bit it and held back the tears. I grabbed the suits and walk out with my head down. Turned to take one last glance in the mirror and called myself a -- bad word.  I vowed that I wouldn't be in this bad of shape next summer. Same vow I made last summer.

By now, I'm ready to just get out of Walmart. I walked around and around, trying to locate my family. I even went to the automotive department, knowing that is my husband's favorite aisle. No sign of them! I said to myself, "Maybe I should go to the service desk and have him paged.  ...Nah, I wouldn't want to embarrass him.  [can't help but laugh at the irony there!]

I picked up a few other items that I didn't need while looking for hubby and child, and I hear, "Mia --------------- YOUR HUSBAND IS WAITING FOR YOU IN THE CAR!"  She was kind enough to repeat it a couple of times. Very, loud. [only, she pronounced my name, as "Mel."] I had flashbacks of, "Mia -----------YOUR MOTHER IS WAITING FOR YOU AT THE SERVICE DESK!" when I was 15 years old.  I can feel the blood rush to my face as I hurry to a cash register, saying under my breath, "I'm gonna kill him!" 

Trust me...that was the least of my worries after I got out to the car. 

All the way home, I looked out the window, tuned out the noise and wished that I'd just gone alone.  Why do mothers feel guilty for wanting a couple of hours to themselves?

Anyway...Nice, lady. Dear, reader...I apologize for my husband's rudeness.  Now you know the whole story.  I hope you'll forgive him.  But, I'm dying to know, "Who are you?" 

::Gasp!::  Oh, crap! It just occurred to me, I'm going to have to behave while in public!  You never know who you'll run into at Walmart!