TITLE: A trip to Wal-mart gone very, very wrong

CHARACTERS: Me, Zoe, Quentin, and the manager of the local walmart.

INTRODUCTION:
Unfortunately, the following story happens more than I care to admit.

PART I:
We had playgroup this morning at the park. Quentin spent the entire hour lying on the merry-go-round screaming any time any of the children came within 10 feet of him. What was he screaming? “mawmee, nobody will pway wif me, day all are a-ga-wee at me!!!” (angry, incase you’ve lost the knack of interpreting 4 yr old-ease somewhere along the way). Really, Quentin, I can’t imagine why a bunch of little kids wouldn’t want to play with a screaming banshee who frightens the crap out them. As the hour went on, Quentin had more and more snot and dirt mixing on his face. By the time we were done, he looked like someone whose mother should know better than to leave the house. (She does, she just ignores what she knows and goes anyway)

PART II:
We had no milk at home and needed to go to walmart to get some after playgroup. I was going to have gone last night after the kids went to bed, but I decided that if I was about to take off to Arkansas in the event that my father would have had a bypass, I might buy different groceries than just a regular trip (oh, by the way, Daddy is fine, no need for stints or bypass or anything, sorry to have left you in suspense). So I put it off until today. Both Zoe and Quentin we tired and hungry, but I gave Quentin his blankie (which makes him suck his thumb) and gave them both granola bars and chex mix and reassured them I just had about 20 things to rush in a get “real quick”. When I read back over that, I do realize it sounds like a disaster in the making, but I chanced it anyway.

CLIMAX:
Things went fine until the check out when Zoe decided for some unknown reason to mule kick Quentin in the head. I think her reasoning was that she thought Quentin was looking at her. Who knows. I removed her from the little bench cart where they were sitting together and placed her back in the basket while I tried to hold her down with one hand. She was jumping up and down and clawing at me to get out and SCREAMING loud enough to wake the very long dead. With the other hand I was trying to put the groceries up on the belt and put the checked out ones back in the cart strategically positioned so that the human jumping bean wouldn’t crush or puncture anything.

CONCLUSION:
THEN the manager of the store comes over to ask me “Is everything all right?” When I assured him that it was, he said “Is there anyone I can call for you?”. I SO wanted to think of a quick smart aleck come back, but none came to mind! Any suggestions? There will be a “next time”.

EPILOUGE:
Unfortunately, this is the THIRD store manager whose attention we have attracted in the past year. Sheesh. I swear this can not be normal.

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