So while Ben was dealing with barfing baby, I was running around trying to get a washcloth, thermometer, Tylenol, and a sippy cup of water. By the time I got back, Ben had been barfed on and was sitting in the bathtub with Nephi. We took his temp. AHHH 103.9!! I grabbed the Tylenol and got a little out – then the bottle was empty. It was enough I thought to get him to sleep and lower his fever for the rest of the night. I had to force him to take it, and it gagged him and he threw it up. Great. Now I had to run to Wal-Mart at 1 in the morning! It wasn’t the fact that I had to go out in the middle of the night that bothered me. You see, Ben has told me stories of the kind of people that shop there in the wee hours of the morning… stories that would curl your toenails and give you nightmares. But since Ben was covered in puke, I was the most likely candidate to venture forth into the night. After all, I was the mama. I would do anything for my little guy! Before I left, Ben grabbed my hand. “Please, be careful.” He pleaded. I assured him I would be alright, but I saw the fear in his eyes.
The streets were empty as I made my way to the 24 hour Super Center. It was really eerie. The only cars I saw were in the Wal-Mart parking lot as I pulled in and parked.
I got out of the car and locked the doors. Walking towards the store a creepy looking character came out with a baseball bat in a plastic sack. How much do you want to bet he wasn’t going to batting practice? I, nonchalantly, walked at an angle away from him, and sped up to get to the safety of the store. I made it. Then I turned around to make sure he wasn’t introducing his new bat to my car. Nope, he left. Good thing, it wouldn’t have been good for him if I had decided to open a can of whoop on him. A man with a bat is no match for an angry mama with a sick kid at home!
The door greeter was in his 80’s and slumped in his happy chair half asleep. I marveled at Wal-Mart’s tight security. It made me feel all warm, fuzzy and safe! The store was nearly empty. There were some “associates” cleaning floors and a few others were stocking shelves -- and by the look of them I knew why they were on night duty. One especially helpful stocker showed me where the kid’s Tylenol was hidden, but I hardly noticed because I couldn’t stop staring at her multiple face piercings, and when I say multiple, I mean multiple! I had to catch myself from asking if they hurt or if they ever catch on stuff. Then I wondered how her boyfriend could kiss her… or even how she eats!
Anyway, I found my medicine and decided I wanted to get some Pedia-Lyte too. So off to the back of the store to the baby section. I felt like I was being watched as I made my way back. And I was. There was this weirdo lurking behind some clothes peeking at me, and when I turned to look, they ducked. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman… that in itself is frightening!
I hurried and grabbed the drinks and sped off when I noticed a super freaky guy lovingly caressing a bag of diapers. Ben was right, the “weirdies” do come out at night… I hope he wasn’t someone’s dad! Ah, just remembering him gives me the heebee-geebees! I was a little loud making my getaway because I couldn’t maneuver my cart around a display and knocked some things over. I looked at the guy. He glared at me… if looks could kill I wouldn't be here warning you of these nighttime dangers! Let’s just say, I made record time getting back to the front and checking out. I just kept telling myself if I can just make it to the car…
Then just as I was getting to the doors, the Wal-Mart greeter was acting suspicious by the ice freezer. He was facing it with his pants unzipped and belt undone. He noticed me staring (I couldn’t help it! I was mortified!) and swiftly zipped and buckled. Then he made some joke about how no one had told him that getting old meant losing his butt. Okay, I’ll take that… better than a sinister alternative.
Well, as you can see, I made it home safe and sound. Physically anyway. This adventure, however, may have lasting psychological effects. Nightmares of painful face piercings, isle lurkers, diaper molesters, and 80 year olds who literally can’t keep their pants on, may be reoccurring. But like every good super mom, anything for my baby!
Okay, now it’s your turn! We want to hear your funny Wal-Mart stories. Come on, we all have them!