Best Trip to Wal-Mart...EVER!

I have learned that if I must take my kids with me to Wal-Mart for a sizable load of groceries, I had better provide my oldest with something very interesting to do.

Enter: Nintendo Gameboy

Chris introduced Jaron to video games several weeks ago and it has been both a surprising pleasure and an irritant.

It was as if his need to be constantly entertained was completely satiated - if only for a little while - when playing the Gameboy. I resolved to let go of my opposition to video games, so long as they weren't violent in nature, at least for the length of a trip to Wal-Mart or a car trip.

Back to the story, it's long but it gets really good...

So we were in Wal-Mart and he was GLUED to his Nintendo. All was bliss. I filled my cart and was out of there in half the normal time. I really was amazed! I couldn't find anything to do with my 'child rearing' hand. (I think there's a reason for the term "Child-rearing" but that's another post)

I usually use one hand for tandem grocery shopping and cart pushing - the other is reserved for keeping kids in line... I know, it sounds awful - but if you've never been to a store with us - you surely must reserve judgement...

I had checked out and was walking out to the van. The instant onslaught of sunlight as we walked toward the van gave me the urge to sneeze. This was no ordinary sneeze. It was the kind that roused all mucous matter and rattled it loose from the depths. All in .06 seconds flat.

(I know you hate it when I tell you this stuff, but it's integral.)

The problem with this sneeze is that it 'hit' me as I was crossing the Wal-Mart parking lot. I was pushing the cart with one hand and tugging Jaron by the arm with my other hand as he had his nose buried in his game. It was easier to lead him safely to the car than provoke a melt-down by snatching his game away.

Picture feverish thumbing of the controls and intense eyebrows. This was his state of concentration.

It was at this point of utter helplessness that the sneeze presented itself and its' eminent arrival.
What was I to do but just let it out? So for the sake of my children's safety, I sacrificed a cute outfit. It all went down the front of my slacks. YUCK!!

Avery said, "Mommy, you wet your pants! That's why you're supposed to cover your mouth like this." And she cupped her tiny hand over her mouth.

I hobbled to the van - completely disgusted with what had happened - and unloaded kids and groceries alike. I started the van, tucked the cart away in the receptacle next to our van, shut the passenger door, and walked around to get in my seat.

It was locked. Engine was running. My kids were in the car. I was not.

Don't Panic. Jaron can read. Tell him to push the "U" button.
I beat on the window while a teenage girl looked on at my fiasco. I could tell she was wanting to call for help.

Jaron was buried in his game. Thumbs smoking. Eyes fixed on the screen. He did not budge.

I tried again to get his attention, in a less jovial manner. As I recall, there may have been threats...

Jaron's fingers ablaze. Forehead wrinkled. Completely intent on Super Mario Brothers.

I looked sheepishly at the teenage girl, then back inside my van. I looked at Avery. She was shaking Jaron, trying to get his attention. Nothing doing.

I asked her to climb into my seat and start pushing buttons. I began to draw a "U" on the window while urging her to find the letter "U" and push it. I drew at least 11 U's.

Hallelujah! She did it!

We were saved! All except for Mario and my slacks.

You had better believe that there was a video game-free conversation on the long trip home.

So there you have it - the best Wal-Mart trip. Ever.