Fun times at Walmart

Ryan often - and by 'often', I mean, literally, at least two or three times a week - asks me, "how come things always happen to you?"

I always have a story. Something always happens to me. But I'm a firm believer that things always happen to everyone, but not everyone finds these little stories interesting enough to tell, and therefore, it makes my stories seem all the more prominent.

Plus, I embellish stories.

A lot.

Case-in point: I got hit by a car.

Not even literally. I got pushed by a car, but "I got hit by a car" makes the story seem all the more exciting. Plus, my passive "excuse me sir, but you hit me with your car" response really doesn't make for a good story.

So listen to the embellished version!

Lucas has been crying. A lot. At his 2-month check-up, the nurse said, "At 2 months your baby will begin to cry more - their crying peeks at the 2-month mark."

Me: "Oh, he's SUCH a good baby and rarely cries. I think we dodged that bullet!"

3 weeks later, I am eating my words. This kid cries if you hold him, set him down, and, my favourite, when he's fast asleep and you sllooooowwwwwlllllyyyyy lay him down in his crib, he wakes up and screams bloody murder and you have to start the process all over.

I won't lie: I've uttered Samuel L. Jackson's amazing children's book title a few times to this kid. More than I like to admit.

So Ryan got home from work yesterday, and before he had time to change out of his work clothes, I was standing there telling him I was going to Walmart. I needed to get out of the house and away from the whining and crying for a good 20 minutes. Mother of the year award?? Hell, no.

So I went to Walmart. I parked on the opposite end of the parking lot, because, you know, those extra 30 feet are real exercise. The parking lot was fairly empty for the first time ever, and I slowly walked to the store (you  know, gotta take my time and make this break worth it!).

Because the parking lot was empty, I just quickly scanned the area in front of my walking path and just kept walking. Suddenly, I felt something on my left hip. Then I got pushed. Then I was about 2 feet further into the roadway.

I realized that someone was backing into me.

2 things came to mind:

1) If I let him run me over, Ryan will be stuck with the kids for at least a couple of hours while I am sent to emerg. That's 2 hours of quiet. Please run me over.

2) If I get ran over, my 20 minutes of stress-free Walmart snooping will be cut short and I'll have to, instead, listen to sickies at the hospital whine. I've had enough whining for today. Do NOT run me over.

So I hit his car with my hand. Hard. He didn't hear me and kept backing up. So I jumped forward, out of the way (which I should have done in the first place...). Again, he didn't see me until I walked up to his window, with my arms stretched out with a "WHAT THE HELL?!" look on my face. He stopped, lipped "SORRY!" and we both smiled at each other.

I just smiled at a guy who hit me with his car.

No... pushed me with his car.

Then, we waved at each other.

I literally just THANKED him for pushing me with his car.

You know what irks me the most about this whole scenario? He was parked in the "Parents With Child" parking stall. When I noticed this, I wanted to scream at him.

Not for pushing me with his car - but for parking in MY parking stall.

What an a-hole.

So I walked into Walmart, with the intention of just buying nose spray, and left with things for the 2 kids I left at home to get away from. I realized, as I was leaving, I forgot the nose spray. So I had to go back in.

"Forgot" the nose spray.

Sucker.

Lucas had been crying the entire time I was gone. Aryn didn't move her dress from behind her on the potty and had gotten poop on her dress. Ryan was still in work clothes. Supper was burning in the slow cooker.

And I got 20 minutes to myself.

'Twas a good day.