Taking two hungry kids to HEB at 5:00 PM on a Monday evening may not have been the best idea...
First off, I let the kids ride in that extra long "car" cart that is nearly impossible to steer.
Here's how the trip went:
As I was turning down an aisle a man stopped right in the middle of it causing me to accidentally bump into his ankle. He quickly turned around and gave me the stink eye. I apologized to him profusely, blaming myself for going too fast in that darn extra long cart. He then started limping down the aisle.
Seriously, I only tapped him with my cart.
So again, I stopped and apologized to him. He just continued to give me a nasty look and never even acknowledged me. So I got over it and went about my business.
Next, Brown was trying to grab something off of a shelf that I had already told him he could not have 987, 654 times and then...
Three broken pasta sauce jars on the floor. All over my feet as well. And what felt like hundreds of eyes staring at me and my two hooligans. So I flagged down a worker to tell him about our spill only to get more nasty looks.
Then Brown, my poor starving child, was trying to open the roasted chicken in our cart and tumped it over making a huge greasy mess all over our groceries and forming a slippery puddle on the ground. So again I had to flag down ANOTHER maintenance worker. Looks of disgust were sent our way this time.
Finally as we are checking out, a precious elderly man was in line behind us. He sneezed, "ACHOO!!!"
And Anna screamed, "Mom, that man said BOO!
He's SOOOO SCARY!"
The she continued to shout at the top of her lungs, "HE IS SOOOO SCARY WOOKIN', MOM!"
By this point I am beet red. Then I said to Anna, "It is not nice to say someone is scary looking."
She responded, "No, he's not scary wookin', HE'S FUNNY WOOKIN'!!!!!"
I swear, I almost died of humiliation right then and there.
Never again... 5:00 PM, two hungry kids, HEB.