The black hole...part two

So, despite my earlier blog in which I ranted for several paragraphs about my HATE for visiting Wal-mart with all my kids in tow…I returned to the black hole today. If you haven’t read that blog, this one will make less sense. (a fact I informed my sister of when telling her the story earlier today. I also informed her that failure to read my blog regularly earned her the bad sister award for the day. That’s a relief, because I am usually the one who gets that award…can’t remember the last time it went to anyone else, in fact.)

In an effort to save time I won’t repeat the whole story of the stupid man and his stupid comment to me in Wal-mart last week. I don’t have to, because I can just tell you what happened to me today, and it will be the SAME, only WORSE!

The trip started off on a bad note because I forgot my list, so I was scrambling around in my brain trying to remember everything I absolutely HAD to have. And, of course, I ended up making it all the way to the checkout line before I remembered I needed baby wipes BADLY! Not just “we’re running low on wipes.” Oh no, this is a full blown “You are not allowed to have a dirty diaper today because we have 10 wipes in the whole house” kind of problem.

But I was already in line when I realized it, and there is no way, once I can see the light of day again ,that I am re-entering the black hole. I am just not tough enough for that.

So, I am silently fuming that I have forgotten the single most important thing on the list, when all of a sudden, a voice speaks behind me.

“You have four children? That’s almost as many as I have.”

I froze. Surely not.

Oh yes it was. The same man. Standing calmly and collectedly behind me in the checkout line. Smiling. And once again, he didn’t have his ‘alleged’ children with him.

Hopefully I covered my look of horror with an appropriately interested smile.

I don’t think he would have noticed if I hadn’t. He was still talking.

“Yeah, my wife, she’s a saint. She handles our kids like a champ.”

My smile slipped slightly.

 I surreptitiously took the keys from the baby before he jabbed them down his throat, and shushed the other kids who were all trying to tell the man their names and ages and whose birthday we were celebrating today. My eyes said to them “Stop talking to him or Mommy will end up beating him with her purse.”

They got the message, but the man went on.

“Yeah, the best part is that my wife (and no, I didn’t add the inflection. He said it just like that.) still looks exactly the same as before she had all five kids. She goes for a run every day. She is a saint. No doubt about it.”

Really?

Thank goodness I had forgotten my list and only had a handful of items in my cart. If I had been forced to stand there much longer…

“Yeah, she sounds awesome. You on the other hand…not so much.”

Don’t worry, I didn’t say that. It went through my mind, but I bit my lip and swiped my card instead, maintaining my plastered smile. Chalk one up to my mom teaching me self control. (one of the ways she did that was successfully navigating Wal-mart WITH ALL FIVE of her children in tow. Now, if we really want to get into a battle of who is the saint, Dude, she could give you a run for your money.)

I loaded my bags into my buggy, took my receipt from the cashier, and all but ran from the crazy man behind me. I am pretty sure he still thought we were just making conversation, but I cannot convey strongly enough how much I wanted to punch him in the nose.

I don’t think he realized I was the same person he had said the same thing to just last week…then again, I am not sure he has any idea what is going on around him EVER. What kind of a…never mind. I already vented to my sister, who gets to give back her bad sister award by still loving me after having to listen to the whole rant.

Apparently I am a magnet for stupid comments at Wal-mart. Excellent.