I took Ada with me to go to a WIC appointment and then to get some things for her party and the house at Wal-Mart. She did SO good the entire time until we were checking out. She started getting really antsy, fussy and crabby and I could smell the odiferous reek of pureed cheerios, pears and watery fruit punch Gatorade. The lady checked us out and we broke for the exit. I pulled all of our day’s haul out and stocked the car before tending to my daughter.
Which, I promise doesn’t sound as neglectful and cruel as you might think, she was fine once we got outside into the sunshine and breeze.
Her dress was sticking to my arm, her bloomers were drenched with a liquid density increasing from the left to right side and the entire cart’s seat was covered in a filmy, filthy veneer of what resembled milk-drenched Grape Nuts and dried rubber cement (you know how it gets all ball-y and sticky-tacky like?…yeah…).
She had a MASSIVE blow out!
I wiped the seat as well as I could and shoved it back into the return holder and fled the scene.
I’m so sorry Wal-Mart cart-pusher.