Running Out

There was no denying the curiosity in the cashier’s eye as my items glided toward her on the conveyor belt. I try to tell myself that they don’t care and they don’t judge, but I’m not convinced of it.

“Good morning!” she said, a little too chipperly for a Monday at Walmart. “Are you having a good day?”

“Yes, thank you,” I lied, dutifully adhering to our culture’s customary reply.

And then, maybe because I think dishonesty should be saved for special occasions, like when I ‘surprise’ the kids at parent pickup with their scooters (because I’ve locked the keys in the car again) or when we ‘spontaneously’ have breakfast for dinner (because we ran out of sandwich bread and I had to bake the frozen pizzas at six in the morning to create a very special school lunch) the whole awful truth came rushing out.

It had NOT been a good day.

“I didn’t realize that my husband was out of deodorant. I sent him to work today wearing mine—‘sweet sensation’ scent, I think. I told him no one would notice, but how could they not? He smells like a brand-new baby in a field of roses. Sucking a lollipop, maybe…”

Boop!

Boop!
Boop!
She scanned the three sticks of Right Guard, chosen for their especially manly aroma.

“We’re also out of jelly, so the kids have just peanut butter today. I decided not to tip them off—I don’t know if they’ll even notice, but the littlest one gets pretty indignant about these things…”

Boop!

Boop!
Boop!
Three jars of Welch’s Natural Concord Grape were added to the bag and the bill.

“Oh my,” she said compassionately. “And what about these? How many?”

“Ten,” I mumbled self-consciously.
“Ten five-packs of yard bags, eh? You must have a big yard.”

More like a big mess.

I’d spent two hours successfully blowing ALL the leaves from the yard into giant heaps on the sidewalk when I made the discovery that—you guessed it—we were out. The thought of all those leaves now messing up the neighbors’ beautifully manicured lawns was the impetus for the early morning Walmart trip in the first place.

There, I said it.

To be super-honest, the deodorant and jelly draught, though guilt-inducing, were back-burner issues compared to the yard bag situation.

How can I be so sure? Because I would be first in the livid-line if a neighbor’s leaf mounds shuffled themselves onto my meticulously-manicured lawn.

Assuming I ever have a meticulously-manicured lawn, of course.

“My, what a morning,” the cashier clucked, shaking her head. “May I ask why you’ve purchased multiple items to replace what you’ve only just run out of?”

I’d already been so honest, I figured I might as well keep the truth rolling:

Because I NEVER want to have a morning like this again.