Every year, my saint of a mother-in-law takes all the kids overnight so me and the husband can go out to eat and get our Christmas shopping done. I look forward to it.
A night out. Alone.
It’s so tempting to just go home and sleep, especially this year. We both have colds and are exhausted. We couldn’t do that, of course. It was the last weekend before Christmas and we had bought exactly ONE present out of the required 15 for the kids. (See the Three Present Rule.) There was only one problem. We had no idea what we were buying.
It was the last weekend before Christmas and we were going to have to wing it.
We headed to the restaurant first because we always know what and where we’re going to eat. Over our Scottish eggs, we made a tentative list.
Books of some kind
Lemonade Mouth Movie (?)
It was pathetic so we did what we always do. We ate too much (Bangers and Mash and Shepherd’s Pie) and headed to the Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart has everything kids want, right? Well, no, they don’t. We walked around the place a while (TWO hours) and bought a few things.
We headed to the Toys R Us, where they wanted almost $60 for an Easy Bake Oven. Are you kidding me? I have a perfectly good oven at home that doesn’t require a light bulb to work and actually makes cakes that taste good. If my 8yo was Amish, she’d know how to bake bread, pies, cakes, and cookies using a wood stove. Surely she could handle an electric oven. We walked around a while (ONE hour) and bought a few things.
We headed to Target, still searching for my daughter’s last present. We found it–the last copy of Lemonade Mouth (?) and added a few generic boyish and girly items to our cart. We walked around a while (45 minutes) and bought a few things.
Then we headed to another Wal-Mart. (!!) I needed a pair of black flats. I tried to find a pair at Target but they literally had none in my size. Zero. Not even the ugly ones. I knew Wal-Mart would have ugly black flats in my size. As it turns out, they only had the ugliest of their wide selection of ugly black flats in my size. And yes, I bought them, seeing as the entire Savannah area appeared to have a shortage of black flats in a size 8. And they hurt my feet.
Anyhoo, we picked up that “book of some kind” for the 12yo and we were officially done. Then the evening took a sinister turn.
Wal-Mart has that reputation for badly (half)dressed people walking around, clueless, with snotty-nosed toddlers wearing only a diaper and swigging Co-Cola from their bottles sitting in their cart, right? Well, that was nothing compared to what I saw in the Wal-Mart.
Actually, I heard it first. A woman started yelling profanities. I’m not entirely sure what she was so worked up about, but it had something to do with some lady hogging the aisle. She was MAD. She yelled and the entire Wal-Mart stopped to stare. The lady she was yelling at (along with her poor child in the cart, who was fully dressed and clean, by the way) walked away. The angry lady (who also had a child with her) stopped yelling for a while. Until she spotted the aisle-hogger in the checkout line.
Then, I kid you not, she said the following:
“You and your ugly-a$$ child. Yeah, I said it. I went there. You with your ugly-a$$, m-f’n child, *incoherent raving*, more m-f’ns, profanity, profanity, profanity, ugly-a$$, m-f’n child. I said it and I don’t even care.”
I couldn’t believe it. She said that about a CHILD, who looked to be about 3 or 4 years old, loud enough for him and everyone else in the Wal-Mart to hear it. I wanted to punch her in the face and I’m sure I’m not the only one who felt that way. My husband was waiting to break up the inevitable fight because that poor aisle-hogger probably weighed about 100 lbs. and the “heckler” was not a small woman. He’s such a good guy. (Love you, honey.)
The police showed up, which was lucky for the horrible woman, because I’m pretty sure she was about to be the victim of a beat down. I’m not the violent type, but it would be tempting to get in a few kicks and/or punches if such a thing occurred. How could anyone say that about a child, much less to a child’s face? So what if the kid’s mom was an aisle-hogger? I don’t care if she rammed her in the butt repeatedly with her cart, there was no excuse for that.
Needless to say, I did not end the evening overcome by the Christmas spirit. I was disgusted and shocked at the cruelty of people. If my night was ruined, I can only imagine what that poor mother was feeling. Wherever she is, I hope she’s telling her son what a beautiful boy he is and having a Merry Christmas.