For all the moms out there who have lost a kid in a store and I've rolled my eyes or shaken my head in disapproval...I apologize. And for all the family members who read this and want to lash out in anger...I am fully prepared for Jason to take all the responsibility for this almost-catastrophe.
Friday is our grocery day. We pack up the entire family (fun, fun) and head to the store. And our routine is to buy the $1 sweet teas (or Diet Cokes) from the McDonald's inside Walmart. It keeps the kids quiet while we're shopping (never mind the caffeine highs afterward, but it's our routine anyway).
We went inside the store and loaded Little Lady in the seat of the buggy. Jason said he was going to buy the drinks, and, in an effort to get out of there quicker I said I would go ahead start shopping, and we'd meet up after they were done. We parted ways and that was that.
I didn't have the buggy, so I told Jason I would just go get my nail polish from the cosmetics section just outside the McDonald's, and that I would wait for them there. I waited and waited...and finally my phone rang.
Jason: "Where y'all at?" Yes, we're Southern rednecks. Well, Jason is, anyway. :)
Me: "I'm right here where I said I would be. Where are y'all?"
Turns out, Jason and the boys were in the jewelry section right next to the cosmetics. I found him before he found me, and I went to set my nail polish in the buggy.
Me: "Where's the buggy?"
This is the point where all the blood drained from my face. Jason said he thought I had the buggy, I said I thought he had the buggy, and there was Dub, bouncing up and down between us, "I tried to tell ya, Dad! I tried to tell ya Mom didn't have the buggy!"
Me, I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. We ran as fast as two grown ups could run inside a store without attracting too much more attention to ourselves. Dub and Bo kept up, with Dub calling out the whole time, "I tried to tell ya, Dad!"
The greeter pointed us to Customer Service, where we (THANK YOU, GOD!!!!!!) found Little Lady still sitting in her buggy, surrounded by surly looking women who clucked their tongues at us as we approached.
"We didn't know what to do with her! Don called us over there and said y'all had just walked off, and we didn't know what to do!"
Were you thinking of slapping a Rollback sticker on her behind and sticking her on the shelf??? Or putting her to work to earn her keep? Gracious, lady, give a grieving Mama a break!!!
I tell ya, I held Little Lady for the rest of our shopping trip. She talked about how she cried and how the police man scared her (WHAT IN THE WORLD?????), and then she politely asked me not to leave her again.
So there you go. Now I get it. It can happen to the most kid-conscious Mamas out there (like me, you know). I will never, never, let that happen again, no matter how much she kicks and screams not to sit in that goofy seat on the buggy. Seventeen years old and she'll still be sitting in that seat.... Nah, by that time I'll claim disability and ride on one of those motor carts. Then she'll be the one to run off and leave me!
It's only fair, really.
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