Yes, You May Laugh

My SUV recently hit 105,000 miles, so we decided it was definitely time to take it in just to make sure everything is still a-okay. So, early this morning, we all drove up to North Little Rock and dropped my Envoy off.

In case you don't know, my husband drives an enormous Chevy Silverado (it doesn't even fit into our garage. . .I'm not kidding), with zero window tinting, old timey manual window cranks, and two doors (you know the kind that you can only open if the front ones are open?).

So, I will be driving the truck for. . .who knows how long (Dear Lord, please not long).

I needed to run a few errands today, and the first one was to Babies R Us. I really wanted to park in those preggers lady parking spots, but I was scared of backing the truck out of them. So, I parked toward the back, by the cart return. Of course, I wasn't thinking that in order to open the toddler's door I would have to keep my door open, thus effectively pinning us between the truck and the cart return. But nonetheless, we made it into Babies R Us.

I should also mention that I was wearing a t-shirt, denim shorts, Sperry's, and a baseball cap. I definitely fit the picture of the crazy momma driving the gigantic truck.

The whole way walking into the store, the toddler was shouting, "I like Thomas! I like Thomas! Hello! I like Thomas!" (It's his new thing: to declare what he likes to complete strangers.) Once inside the store, he pointed out what he always points out--the container of balls (the gumballs in the little machine). So then, for the duration of our shopping trip (which was as quick as I could make it), my son shouted, "I like balls! I like balls! I like balls!" I tried to smile, to not turn red, and to console myself with thoughts of, It could be much worse.

After picking up diapers, we were off to Walmart. By the time we got there, the toddler was sound asleep. So, I picked him up and carried him in. When I set him in the cart, he woke up--very, very unhappy. "MY SHOE! MY SHOE! IN THE CAR! MOMMMYYYYYY!" I looked down. Sure enough. My child was only wearing one shoe and was going ballistic. There was no way on God's green earth I was going back through the five zillion degree heat to get his other shoe.

Suddenly, the solution hit me: Thomas.

I raced back to the toy section with my toddler screaming his lungs out until I came to the Thomas section. It's bizarre to me that my son likes Thomas, because we own nothing that has Thomas on it and he never watches Thomas. But anyway, I was going to get him a little train. Nope, he didn't want the little train. He had already picked out the huge, $20 Thomas. At this point, I'm unashamed to admit, it was totally.worth.it.

With Thomas in hand, the toddler was perfectly happy and back to announcing to everyone that he liked Thomas. So I started flying through my grocery list. With just a few items to go, I needed to grab mandarin oranges. I turned (okay, maybe I screeched) onto the aisle with mandarin oranges. I reached for a container, and, it was just like slow motion, knocked three other containers on the floor and watched as they exploded mandarin oranges.

Pause.

For just one second.

May I cry please?

So then we have Mommy down on the floor with the mandarin oranges, the toddler screaming, "I LIKE THOMAS!" mixed with "OH NO, MOMMY!" and fleeting thoughts of curling into the fetal position in the middle of Walmart and crying.

We somehow made it out of Walmart and back home. We opened up Thomas, who of course doesn't have functioning wheels (REALLY, THOMAS DESIGNERS!? REALLY!?). So now, my toddler is going around the house with his blue (enormous) train saying, "Is broken. Thomas is broken."

It's this heat. I swear. It's sucking the life out of me and making me a crazy lady.

But, thank you Lord for Thomas. And that nobody was in the aisle when the mandarin oranges exploded. :)