Or, as Jen Lancaster puts it, I can be a dumbass.
The day before Christmas Eve, I ran to Walgreens to get something. I honestly can't even remember what that something was. But, on my way out the door, I saw that they had Coke on sale. *cue heavenly music* because I was OUT of Coke, and that is just not a way to live life.
I grabbed a 12 pack and told the woman at the register to charge me for four. And she did. And I paid for them. And then I had Sam carry the little plastic bag with Workaholic's pomade (I remembered!) in it, and told her to stand RIGHT BY ME, since I couldn't hold her hand in the parking lot. I also handed her a dollar and told her to put it in the red ringing bell can. (is it the Salvation Army??)
Meanwhile, I am juggling FOUR 12 packs of Coke. And my purse. And trying to control a toddler. A couple of people had given me
We headed across the parking lot and she was very good and walked/skipped right next to me. And then we got to the van.
And that is where all hell broke loose. I dropped ALL 4 fridge packs of Coke on the ground BY ACCIDENT, and they split open and began to spray everywhere. I frantically tried to figure out which cans were bad and
When I got home, I realized that at least 2 more cans had been punctured that I didn't know about and now there was Coke all over my passenger floor. (Thank GOODNESS for my WeatherTech floor mats. Seriously, get those if you have kids or dogs or live in any part of the country where you will get in the car with wet/snowy/muddy boots, or like to drink coffee/Coke/Red Bull in your car. And NO, they didn't pay me to say that, although they are free to do so!)
As I took a couple of the packs out of the front of the car, they ripped from being soaked with Coke and their contents spilled all over my garage floor. I now had more empty cans of Coke, 2 useless and wet cardboard boxes that are meant to easily contain and carry Coke, and each and every can that I had left is now covered in sticky shit and dirt and half of them were dented from the fall. Great. Sam is yelling at me to clean up my mess, and she opened the door between the garage and the house to let the dogs out, who then get in my way as I am trying to bend over and see where all these damn cans have rolled and then Sam cries as they get in HER way and push her around in their excitement to see
I gave up, grabbed a bag and
As I was getting ready this morning, a good two weeks later, it occured to me that all I would have had to do to do avoid the whole situation was to GET A CART. They were within mere feet of me when I was piling the Coke into my arms, and yet all the people who saw me do it and gave me weird looks and the nice stranger lady who offfered to help Sam never thought to say, "Hey, why don't you use a cart?" And even Sam, who is the model of a "helpful" child, never said, "Hey mommy, why don't you use a cart?" (Why yes, I am blaming my 2 year old. Hey...she almost 3!)
If you ever see a dumbass trying to carry too much, and has a small child or dog or something with them, offer to get a cart. Or at least suggest the idea. You never know, it may not occur to them until 2 weeks later.