Nightmare on South Main

I made a trip to Wal-Mart to get groceries and supplies for Andrew's party this weekend (it's his actual birthday today)! As if Wal-Mart isn't an exciting enough trip by itself, I decided to make it extra special by locking my kids, groceries, phone, and keys, inside the car in the parking lot. Yep. 

Here's how it went: Me and the boys spent twice as long as we should have shopping, (mostly because I forgot my list and ended up sitting cross legged in the middle of the party supplies aisle writing down the list on an Ulta coupon while Rusty read it to me over the phone) but overall we had a great time, and the boys were angels. 

After shopping I turned on the car, my Ben Howard cd came blasting back to life and, with a smile formerly unknown within this short of a radius to Wal-Mart, I joyfully put the kids in their seats so I could unload the shopping bags into the back, singing to myself all the while. 

After unloading, I put the cart back and walked to my door. At the very moment I put my hand on the handle to open it, the thing LOCKED... Right in front of me... Like a practical joke was being played by somebody nearby with an extra set of keys! I exclaim a few words that I won't repeat here and go straight to panic-mode. What am I supposed to do? I can't call Rusty... I'm not walking away from the kids... I'm not strong enough to simply punch through the glass and liberate my children... I'm freaking out. Yes, all these thoughts ran through my tiny little brain. All of a sudden this parking spot that I had previously Hallelujahed about, because it was so close to the front doors AND a cart collector whatchamacallit, became the scene of my most publicly humiliating moments in a long while. "Attention all four-million, free in the middle of the day, walk down the middle of the parking-lane, rollback shoppers! Some lunatic mother is about to put on a great show right outside the East door, take a look!" 

I took a deep breath and yelled (the music is blasting, remember), "ANDREW, BABY! TAKE OFF YOUR SEAT-BELT AND OPEN THE DOOR FOR MOMMY!" F. to the Y.I. nothing sounds sweet when you're yelling.... Andrew looked at me like, "Lady's gone crazy, I know I get spanked for taking off my seat-belt." So I smiled as sweetly as I could and began to mime the action that I desired him to repeat. So picture this... all 5'10" of me playing freaking charades with my four-year-old. When I see that's not going to work I start the yelling again, "ANDREW, I'M NOT GOING TO SPANK YOU! (*stranger inevitably dials CPS*) PLEEEEAAAAASE PUSH THIS BUTTON ALL THE WAY UP!" At this point I am sweating and my hands are shaking and I'm really beginning to wonder what on earth I'm going to do. I even tried to cup my hands and yell directly into the seam of the door just in case the reason my child was looking at me like I was a buffoon was an issue of not being able to hear me. Being heard is rarely an issue of mine. The miming and yelling went on for a few more minutes before Andrew, thank the good Lord, tentatively unbuckled his seat-belt, and easily unlocked the door. In order to keep from getting locked out again I crawled across Andrew's lap and into the drivers' seat from the back right side of the car. 

After getting everybody strapped back in, I take a deep breath and Andrew said, "I think you need to say thank you to me."

Doing the best that I can! ;)