The other day I decided that I would class it up around here and so I went grocery shopping at Target instead of Wal-Mart. I put on real clothes and I even wore my good sandals instead of my flip-flops.
The bad thing about grocery shopping at Target is that by the time you load up your cart with dollar bin
crap stuff and fashion accessories and home décor and t-shirts and kitchen gadgets and a CD and a birthday card and a toy for a very good boy and stuff that I now can’t even remember – there is no room for groceries. And then you have to go to Wal-Mart the next day to get groceries. But not before explaining to your spouse why we have dollar bin stuff and a CD, but no cereal.
As luck would have it, I had just enough room in my cart for a carton of rice milk, the main reason I went “grocery” shopping in the first place.
As luck would not have it, there was only one carton of rice milk left and it was waaaaaay back in the refrigerator case and not a soul around to help me get it. Unless I had the arms of Dikembe Mutombo I was not going to reach that milk. However, that bit of knowledge and information did not stop me from trying, no siree. I was a mom on a mission. I was going to get milk for my child even if I had to army crawl into the refrigerator case. And so I did.
What I didn’t count on is that my lovely leather Papagallo sandals would be so slippery. As I leaned into the case I sorta slipped out of my sandals and launched myself headlong into the case. I got my hands on the carton (yay!) but only because the freezer door hit me in the butt (boo!) and propelled me forward that extra half inch (yay!)
In spite of the angry protest put up by my knees, I backed out of the refrigerator case, now as fresh a refrigerated cucumber. I put my sandals back on and turned just in time to see a very puzzled looking stock boy with a semi-load of rice milk.
As I left the store with a cart full of
groceries whatever and rice milk, it was raining lightly. I’m not exactly the prissy type, so I decided to make a sashay for it. When you have on good sandals, you don’t run, you sashay. Unfortunately, sashsaying in good sandals on damp pavement may cause you to spontaneously enact moves seen only at the conclusion of a figure skating program.
I did not know that I could still do the splits.