Not OK-Mart

I stood in line, my feet throbbing, each pulse reminding me why I prefer ballet flats to the four inch heels currently keeping my pants from dragging the ground. Elizabeth begged for a sucker. "Please, please, please, please, please, please..."

Joseph stood at the end of the cart, swinging it back and forth, hitting me in the hip with each motion.

"Please stop, Joseph," I said, menace coating my words.

He looked at me from under his eyebrows. "You said we'd be quick!" He was frustrated.

"I know," I sighed.

In my cart a lone pack of Pull Up's shared space with a bag of flavored popcorn.

"Please, please, please, please...."

I looked around, my face showing Scottish stoicism while my Irish inner voice ranted and railed.

In front of me, a woman leaned against the counter. Behind the register another woman looked around the store as if wondering where she was.

No one said a word.

Behind me, the line stretched to the paper towels. The only other lighted register flashed off.

"I'm going on break," the red head behind the other register said, walking briskly out the front door.

I looked at the woman in front of me. Her purse rested on the stand, her stance was casual, relaxed. Behind me, I heard muttering. A coup was forming.

Finally, after ten minutes. Ten minutes of feet throbbing in my work shoes. Ten minutes of Joseph hitting me with the cart. Ten minutes of Elizabeth saying, "please sucker". Ten minutes of shifting from foot to foot, the woman behind the register said, "We're just waiting for a price check."

A price check? A goddamn price check? Are you kidding me??

My outer expression didn't change. I just sighed, shifting my feet.

Why the hell are you waiting for a price check instead of asking the woman to wait while you ring up the people behind her. That's what they do at WalMart. Why aren't you calling another cashier? That's what they do at Target. I hate KMart.

I lifted one foot, rotating my ankle. I glanced at my phone.

It was 4:55.

I'd left work at 3:10, got gas, picked up the kids where they hid from me on two acres crying for me to come find them. I stumbled on soft dirt in my heels, praying I didn't break an  ankle while yelling out, "You guys are great hiders! Come on! We need to get home." I picked up Elizabeth only to discover a certain ominous smell coming from her Pull Up. Cleaning her up, I put her in the car while Chad tried to talk finances, work schedules, reminded me I have a parent teacher conference the next day, and Joseph needs popcorn for his potluck.

I drove to KMart, a place with Dollar Store merchandise and Sears prices, but close to our house. I wandered the unfamiliar store looking for popcorn and Pull Ups and then, stood in line.

I stood while the woman in front of me waited for her teenage son to find a shirt that exactly matched the shirt without a price tag. I stood while her son walked up and said, "This one is close, but the dragon doesn't have a chain." I stood while she was finally charged the $10 and then said, "Is it okay if I write a check for half and pay cash for the rest." I waited while the woman paused and said, "Oh! I have some coupons in here somewhere."

For a total of twenty minutes.

I then went home, pulling into the driveway just in time to start dinner, all ideas of a minute to relax snatched out of my hands by KMart.

Yes. It's bitching.

Yes. It's irrational, misplaced frustration at a corporate chain.

I don't care.

Now excuse me while I go eat pie and drink a glass of wine.

Don't judge.

It's pumpkin. It's almost patriotic.