I went grocery shopping at Walmart with the boys again today. You might ask why I would do such a thing. Perhaps it was because I am not overly clever. Shopping there alone is something I clearly should not do. It may, in fact, be something I simply cannot do. Desperate times call for desperate measures, however, and I ran out of milk this morning, and Daniel was down to one soother, and I needed baby wipes. So we went.
It started out as such a pleasant trip. I got the boys and myself ready with very little trouble. I got the diaper bag stocked up. I even remembered the list this time! So far, so good.
There were no tears in the car. There were no tears getting into a cart. I was in a good mood, and not in a hurry, so we stopped at Timmy’s for a treat: a cookie for James, a French Vanilla for mommy. What a lovely day so far.
In the baby section, we found Daniel some soothers. James asked for some as well, but I explained that he didn’t need one because he is now a big boy. He was okay with that. On the way to the wipes, he saw a rattle like Daniel’s, and wanted to get Daniel a second one. I said we didn’t need a second rattle, but James was so insistent on getting the baby a toy that I caved, and got Daniel a toy that James helped pick out. How sweet! Then we got the wipes, which are always a couple aisles further into the store than I remember.
I wasn’t going to buy a big box. They don’t fit into the cart around Daniel, and I can’t carry them and Daniel up the stairs at the same time. I thought about buying the small pack, only 100 wipes, but that doesn’t last as long as you’d think, and when 100 wipes are $3, but 400 wipes are $9, it makes sense to at least buy a small box. I only saw the sensitive skin kind, but that’s fine. He’s a baby. He can be coddled a little bit.
The rest of the shopping went fairly well. I didn’t find the ice cream I wanted, but I did get James’ chicken nuggets, and James made many people smile as he told everyone we passed that we came to the store to get chicken and ice cream.
At the checkout, James tried to touch and take everything. I had to wrestle gum away from him, candy away from him, the debit machine away from him, and my wallet back from him. Still, we’d made it. I had two very heavy bags, but we were done.
It was going so well that I popped into Dollarama for a few things as well.
And then I got home. It was nearly noon by this point, so I turned on the oven, and started putting away the groceries as it preheated. I put away the yogurt, and the milk, and the veggies, and the french fries, and James’ nuggets. Then there were only small items left. Wait, wipes aren’t a small item. Where’s the box?
I didn’t leave them in the car. I only got two bags of things from Walmart, not two bags and a box. Did I pay for them, then leave them there? My good mood evaporated. As I double and tripled checked the hallway for the wipes, I imagined having to go back, find the cashier, and ask, “Do you remember me coming through earlier? Do you still have my box of wipes?” How embarrassing. And it was lunch time. James, Daniel and I were hungry. I thought maybe I’d just call, tell them I’d be there in an hour, and after we’d eaten, bundle the boys back into the car, back into a cart, and back to the store. That would be a fun phone call. “Did a dumb-dumb leave a box of wipes there? Yep, that’s me!”
I considered pretending nothing had happened. Was I really going to go through all that effort for baby wipes? 400 baby wipes. Sigh. Yes, it was worth going back. I wondered if the phone number would be on the receipt. Wait, were the wipes on the receipt? I checked. Double checked. Triple checked. Checked a couple more times. No, the wipes were not on the receipt.
At this point, I was thoroughly confused. Did I forget they were in the cart, walk out with stolen wipes, and leave them in the cart when I returned it? No, I checked to make sure the cart was empty before taking it back. Did the wipes fall off the conveyor belt, and no one noticed? Unlikely. Did the lady behind me put the divider too far ahead and end up with my wipes mixed in with her stuff? Also unlikely. Where did they go?
I remember getting the wipes. I went to the aisle, which is always further back than I think. I did the math, and picked a small box. I decided sensitive wipes were fine. I picked out wipes! Wait, I picked out wipes. Did I pick up wipes?
Oh, bother. I don’t remember actually picking the box up off of the shelf. I don’t remember putting them in the cart. Is it possible I stood there staring at wipes for a few minutes, and then just wandered off without them? I think it must be.
I guess I don’t have to call Walmart and tell them I’m coming back. That would have been embarrassing. Instead, I’ll just blog about it, and let all my friends know how dumb I am. Yeah, that’s totally less embarrassing.
Why do I have a blog again?