It started out like any one of our other 100 successful trips we’ve taken to the grocery store together. An errand I genuinely enjoy doing with Tayler. She had just gotten up from a nap, had a big bottle, clean diaper, and was ready to rock. Recipe for success, right?
Upon arrival, I felt good. She was happily bumbling in the cart, my list was organized perfectly by aisle (well, for the most part), and we began our rounds. The first inkling of disaster started when every slow-moving and oblivious human appeared to be in Meijer with me. All at the same time. All blocking my aisles. I only have so many patient and understanding smile/nods to give out – come on people. Grab another frozen pizza and move on.
About a quarter of the way through the grocery list, sweet, curious Tayler banged her head on the side of the cart. Crocodile tears, hysterical screams, and thrashing ensued. It scared her more than anything – she was fine. Needless to say, from this point on she refused to sit in the cart for one second longer, and I was forced to carry her in one arm while trying to navigate the heavy cart with the other through the masses of molasses clogging our path ways. Not ideal, but no biggie – I got this.
We had finally finished our list (after batting away those staple 7 elderly people that try to touch her cheeks while we’re there). Since little miss had no intentions of sitting back in the cart, I was forced to pick a check-out lane with an employee – no self-check out today. To no surprise, every check-out lane was 5 people deep with full carts of crap (was it my fault for tempting fate on a late Friday afternoon?).
And then it hit. (If you’re not a fan of TMI stories, or a male – this is probably your cue to stop reading – thanks for stopping by!).
In a matter of 30 seconds, I went from mildy frustrated and sweating from carrying a 9 month old on my arm, to sweating from sheer panic as chaos hit my stomach like a ton of bricks. I needed to find a restroom as soon as possible. Like, yesterday. We squealed our tires out of line, and made it to the closest restroom. My hand was now forced to conquer one of my biggest fears: going #2 in public. This, was my nightmare. My absolute nightmare.
As Tayler and I ditched our cart and made our way in, we were welcomed by a party of women oogling over the third stall toilet that appeared to have exploded. Just what I needed – an audience (and why were they intent on watching that?!). The only available stall was the first one with the mangled door. I had to. Things were moving quick. I thought I was going to die in that stall today, as I battled a knee length jacket that wouldn’t unzip, a 9 month old that wouldn’t stop moving in my lap or trying to touch every disgusting inch of that place, facing my fear of doing my business in public (why god WHY couldn’t the bathroom be empty?!), and a tampon that insisted on being changed – all the while staring back at the woman who had no shame in watching me struggle through the two inch gap in the door. And I thought I was sweating before.
I walked out of that bathroom with zero dignity left as I grabbed our cart and made our way back to the insanely long lines. I can only imagine that I had defeat spelled out in block letters on my face as a Meijer manager so graciously came over to me, grabbed my cart, and had an employee open up a new line just for me. What an angel.
I can laugh now (even though I’m still not feeling too well), but I can’t decide whether I should be amazed at how I pulled it off in that tiny stall, or be mortified knowing that those Meijer employees have not only seen me at my worst in their bathroom, but have also seen me half pee myself in their store when I was 9.5 months pregnant. Regardless, being a mom is never, ever a dull moment.
Maybe I need to find a new grocery store? I guess I’ll debate that tonight as I drink my one (or seven) glasses of wine.