I'm convinced. Something is in the air at Walmart that possesses my daughter to do terrible, humiliating things.
I started my "Research" when Nevaeh was about 8 months old and decided to go all Pooptastic on me. I made the horrible mistake of going to Walmart without the diaper bag, and my daughter had her award winning, drip on my toes, stink up the check out lane, blow out diaper. Lesson learned? Always bring the diaper bag, even when running in "real quick" to grab deoderant.
I was next led to the Pacifier Mystery, which I have not blogged about but upon looking back, it's definitely blog worthy. The floors of Walmart have a Paci Magnet, I'm positive and if I confirm these suspicions I am going to sue! Every time we go to Walmart, Nevaeh is compelled to throw, chuck, drop, spit, or hide her Pacifier. Usually I notice it happening and pick it up, wipe it off and either return it to her (to be magneticaly drawn to the floor again) or put it in my purse and later give it back because she's going to have a hernia if I don't. Several times we've gotten down to her last pacifier and are halfway home (In the stroller, as we live in a townhouse right next to Walmart) when she and I realize it is missing and it is truly the end of the world. Those incidents end with me painstakingly retracing my steps through Walmart, looking like a fool while bobbing up and down looking under shelves and clothing racks until I find it perched on an egg carton. Or giving up and buying her a new pacifier because I'm still in the excuse stage as to why I "can't" get her off the pacifier yet (we just moved, she broke her ankle, she's teething, etc etc)
Cue hissy fits vs. full on melt downs, Sippy cups thrown on the ground at just the right angle to cause the lid to pop off and spill water/milk everywhere, and countless items knocked over even though I could swear her arms were not close enough to reach those things!
Today's Walmart induced curse has me considering boycotting the Super Store altogether and making the two minute drive down the road to Kroger. My face found a new shade of red and it repeated that color up and down every aisle because the man this incident happened in front of was, by the gates of Hell, everywhere I went.
He was hot. Sooooo soooo HOT. Like Joseph Gordon-Levitt meets Orlando Bloom kind of hot. He was making his way down the aisle and I spotted him right off because, although a happily married woman, I still like drooling over eye candy.
I was wearing a black tank top with a black bra. Simple gold necklace. I'll admit, I was feeling pretty confident with the way my ladies looked in this shirt!
Nevaeh had been in a crabby mood today (yes this happened today) because a molar is shoving through her poor little gums, and when she is crabby she does not like to sit in the cart. Lucky for me (unlucky) her Cast prevented her from climbing out and standing like she usually does. However, this luck (unluck) bit in the butt tonight. She wanted out, and I was at the point of mildly ignoring her because she was being unnecessarily fussy and dramatic.
Cue really hot guy. He's right beside the cart. Cue slow motion movie action when right as their eyes meet, IT happens. Nevaeh lunges her body towards me, arms outstretched, determined like a bat out of hell to hook her hands around me and pull herself out of that cart.
Only her hands didn't hook on me. They hooked on my shirt. Aaaaand my bra. And she pulled, like a bat out of hell. Shirt and bra separated from lovely ladies, hot guy got a second's worth of oggling, Momma got a new shade of red face while hot guy got a belly full of laughs. Nevaeh too, of course, because if anyone within hearing distance is laughing, she must laugh with them. And I'm positive she knew she had done something "Hilarious" because she laughed extra hard.
The whole thing really happened in about 10 seconds, but I swear it was the longest humiliation of my life.
Does this mean I can call myself a flasher??
Walmart sucks :-(