Last Year's Thanksgiving-Eve Adventure

Note: I wrote most of this last year; I'm just dang slow at getting it posted. But since we're a whole year later, and Thanksgiving is rolling around again, I figure it's absolutely time the truth were told!

Picture the scene: Walmart grocery section the evening before Thanksgiving, 2014. Every single inch of the building was packed with frantic, last-minute shoppers such as myself. Apparently we all lacked one or two little things without which our year-long anticipated celebration would surely implode into dismal failure and disappointment for all.

My squirrely boys were so anxious for the looming break from school that they could not calm their wiggly bodies. They were playing a giggly game of chase while climbing over and around and in and out and above and below the cart. I was doing my best to mentally organize my shopping list into the most efficient route possible, thereby getting us away from the sweaty, stressed out Walmart mob A.S.A.P, while calmly and gently (ha!) encouraging my boys to regain control of themselves, and navigating between the hundreds of carts and shoppers per aisle without mowing anyone down. I assure you, my mental and physical resources were all but maxed.

We finally made it to the freezer section--only two or three aisles away from checkout. Victory was so close I could taste it! A few last minute setbacks required no less than 3 apologies in roughly only 4 minutes or so. First to the huffy woman on the cell-phone who's cart collided with mine when I incorrectly predicted the next move of the chase game. Next to the elderly gentleman who blanched, but then smiled knowingly when my oldest asked him an honest, but socially unaccepted question. Thirdly to the woman that stumbled backward over my youngest, who was bent over double directly behind her, reaching for his dropped keys. After apologizing to these poor, stunned victims of my kids' enthusiasm, and verifying their recovery, I ushered my left and right tackles toward the end of the isle.

There, in the main isle-space between the meats, the freezers, and the produce is where the real excitement began. I was in the process of merging with traffic and navigating the corner. At that moment, Sweety decided to jump off the front of the cart. My reflexes apparently leave something to be desired, so I promptly ran him over, smashing his feet and ankles. Naturally, he plopped right down and set up an impressive wail.

Poor kid. In mili-seconds flat, we were surrounded by a crowd of well-wishers hoping to catch the sight of blood or some such. And if you know my youngest child, you'll know that being the center of attention in a crowd of chatty well-wishers is about the most efficient way to send him right over the edge--injury or no.

I squatted down on the floor with everyone else to figure out how to help my ailing, panicked child, which was apparently a huge mistake. In that moment, while everyone was turned away, Smarty decided to execute a move he'd already done half a dozen times that day (despite my oft-repeated objections, mind you). From a foot or so away, he launched his 65lb. body onto the starboard side of our overloaded grocery cart.

Up until then, the cart had put up a good fight under my kids' constant attack, there were sketchy moments, but it had managed to pull through. However, right then, without my steadying hand on the keel, this cart had finally had enough. It heaved a great groan and gave up--collapsing over sideways and burying Smarty in an onslaught of meats, cleaning supplies, vegetables and fruits, toiletries, and sticky-gooey unidentifiable ooze.

My milk and eggs went sailing across the floor, some bumping into a short gray-haired woman who raised her leg and squealed as if a rodent had just bit her ankle. Our chips and other items went airborne, landing in carts and meat bins and who-knows-where, some of which I know we never recovered. (I wonder how many shoppers went home to be surprised by their purchases that day.)

And Smarty, ever loyal to the cause, proved that he could raise just as much alarm as his brother. I hastily righted the cart, and all our well-wishers helped us put stuff back in it. Despite the fact that I still hadn't grabbed my last few things, that items in my cart no longer directly correlated to the items on my shopping list, and the liquid evidence all around us suggested that not all items were even properly contained at this point, I'd had all the fun I cared for. We went directly to the checkout and took everything home exactly as it was.

Once we got things put away and the boys settled down, we all sat down to a snack and reflected on our adventure. Thank heaven for hot chocolate and ice cream and the soothing properties contained therein. I'm not sure if any of us would have fully recovered without them. Also, apparently milk cartons and other groceries have healing abilities, because by the time I got home my only casualty was one broken egg.

...or it's possible that we were blessed, and that's something to be thankful for.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!