My saintly neighbor watched my two youngest so I could go to the grocery store. Alone. That hasn't happened in years. On the way there, I cranked the music up loud without the shrieks and whines that usually accompany that. I sang. Loudly. To Nine Inch Nails. I exceeded the speed limit by 4 miles an hour, I swore at the man who turned in front of me.
"What!? You &*#(@ moron! Did that year not come with a %&(#@%$& turn signal?" without having to worry that the little sponges in the backseat would repeat it back at some inopportune time. Preschool conferences are stressful enough. And all this excitement, all this liberation before I even entered the store.
I selected the first cart I came to. There was no crying and begging and searching for the one cart in the store that looks like a car. There were no arguments about who was going to ride up front, or who got to sit in the basket, or was going to hold the list. I got to hold my own list. I had time to look at my coupons and actually compare items and prices. I was able to examine the strawberries and the apples. I picked the best avocados. No one was crying. I wasn't constantly pulling on little arms, trying to get them out of the way of the other shoppers. I didn't once have to smile at some stranger in an apologetic way. I didn't even have to talk. For an entire hour, I didn't once say anything. It was...nice. Because I don't really like to talk but that's all I do, all day long.
"No! You can not spray the dog with the hose!"
"Why, may I ask, are there Benderoos hooked to the ceiling fan?"
"What is in the TOILET??"
So, it was refreshing. Not having to speak. To leisurely stroll the aisles of the grocery store, checking items off my list with satisfaction. If they offered champagne at the door, it would have been perfect. They really should do that, while they wipe your cart down with their velvet towels and bow graciously.
I was stalked through the produce aisle by an over-enthusiastic older man and I realized with regret, that my wedding ring was at home. Fortunately, I avoided additional contact and was able to lose him in the frozen foods. Elderly gentlemen can't quite get it up to speed sometimes...you know, their cart?
But all good things must come to an end. Who would have thought I'd ever say that about Wal-Mart? Eeegads. But I hurried home to get the kids with plenty of time to get Nick from the bus. And dare I say? It was nice to see their smiling little faces.