This is an open letter to those who shop and work at my local Super Wal-Mart…
Dear lady that I followed into the store: You are clearly not handicapped. You are clearly not elderly. It looked like you were in pretty good shape to me. Why is it that you so desperately needed that electronic cart? You ran to the last one available and the elderly gentleman coming in behind us quite clearly actually needed it. Two weeks ago, the girls and I stopped to help another elderly gentleman with a walker. He needed to sit down. I suppose you had the last cart that day too. Leave it alone. It’s not a toy. I don’t let my kids on it, you shouldn’t be on it either.
Dear store manager: Why on earth did you take out the benches? You might prevent a homeless person from hanging out but there is no place for the people who need it to take a break. Let’s face it, the store is huge. A homeless person could wander forever and you would never know it. Put the bench back. While you’re at it I have another request. I know that you guys are trying to help the economy with bulk buys and roll backs. The truth is, you really aren’t saving me enough to matter. If you would like to help the economy, hire some more cashiers and open a couple of lanes. We know what Wal-Mart’s bottom line is and let’s face, you can afford it.
Dear very pregnant lady: Good for you for rocking that tank top even though you are clearly 10 months pregnant. Your body is awesome. Still honey, you’re pregnant. Pull your drawers up. My kids really didn’t need to see any of that. The jogging pants are stretched out. I’m very aware that maternity clothes aren’t cool, especially if you are in your teens. There’s a reason they come with a panel that cover your privates. Seriously, you could have been arrested for indecent exposure. Cover it up please.
Dear part time dad: I’m sorry you only see her in the summer. Blocking an entire aisle while you wait for a four year old to put on her own shoe while perched precariously in a basket is not the appropriate time to fit in quality time. I realize you think buying light up princess shoes will cure everything, but put the phone down. Take her and her light up shoes to the park or the zoo. Also, when you see a lady with three little girls rushing through the store assume they are going to the potty and get the heck out of the way.
Dear expressive goth girl: I know you feel a need to express yourself and set yourself apart. Black is awesome. When you are in Memphis and it’s 95 degrees out off the pavement at nine in the morning, looking at your knee high boots, leather trench coat and purple fuzzy hat makes me sweat. I promise you would feel better and your pink hair would look awesome in a sun dress. Clearly, you are okay with it because your skirt was cute. Plus, your pasty white skin could seriously use some sun. I pretty sure your deficit in vitamin D.
Dear middle aged lady that I want to call a name I shouldn’t say: I’m really sorry that there are no children in your life to help you see true joy. My heart is breaking that you felt the need to be so dramatic and roll your eyes because my kids are singing the songs they learned in Sunday school. I did my best to make sure you didn’t damage the delicate egos. The sincere fact is, I will always let them sing their Sunday school songs as loud as they want. Trust me it’s better than the screeching and whining that can often come out of their little bodies. When you saw me, it was still early in our marathon shopping excursion. You could have seen much worse a little later.
Dear lady handing out Starbucks ice cream samples, you may have ruined lunch for the two year old, but I want to thank you. You provided just enough distraction for me to finish without listening another “Can I have?” or “I want…” or “Why can’t we?” It was the best 5 minutes of my shopping experience.
Thank you all for your time and for helping to make my shopping experience with three small children more enjoyable.
A harried mother who swears she’ll never shop at that store again and always does anyway