Against all hard-earned wisdom, I dragged my one and three-year-old to Walmart at noon last week. Before they had lunch.
Listen, I know. I can see you shaking your head already.
All I wanted was a couple sets of sweatpants and sweatshirts for my son, who was going ice fishing with my husband that weekend.
The day before we had a wildly successful trip to Target. My sweet children giggled and ate their lunches, singing songs. They wolfed down their vegetables. They waved at all the cute old people settling in for a bite to eat. I received showers of praise and a nice man even bought them each a cookie.
So it must’ve been why I was feeling smug as I overconfidently buckled them into their carseats. I ignored their whining and tired eyes and went for it, because Target doesn’t sell the cheap, thick Hanes sweatpants I wanted, and I only needed to buy one thing.
Ok. I will spare you the details because I am not proud of it.
But I will say that the trip to Walmart for ONE THING ended 45 minutes later at the self checkout with me whisper screaming at my toddlers IF YOU DON’T SIT YOUR BUTT DOWN IN THE CART FOR JUST ONE MORE MINUTE and NO YOU CANNOT HAVE M&MS and HOW DID YOU GET YOUR FINGER STUCK IN THAT?!
Nope. No cookies for us that day. No adoring smiles by onlookers or compliments from strangers. People practically darted away from us as I pushed the cart down the aisles.
And you know what?
It is what it is.
