Clean up on aisle 12.

So, I’ve been MIA for a while with my blog.  Bad blogger, I am.  You see, my life is pretty boring, not much news to report.  I’ve been super swamped at work – that’s the truth.

Let me enlighten you on my most recent shopping experience. Let's begin.

When the only food in your house is a bag of 4 month old moldy grapes and bread that is one month past its expiration date, it’s time to go shopping.  I hate to shop.  I avoid it at all costs.  So, I will dine on popcorn, Ritz Crackers, olives, cheese, my child’s Puffs and Yogurt melts, occasionally some of her bananas and pears and Kraft Cheese slices.  When all of that runs out, I have to force myself to go buy food.  It’s not a pleasurable experience, but I try to make the best of it while I’m there.

So, I pick Anna up from daycare after work today and decide to hit Winn-Dixie since it's the closest store to where I am. As soon as I bring my child outside, I smell crap. Her crap. The problem with Anna's crap is that it's the most pungent, repulsive crap on the planet. I don't know why my child is so ripe, but I'm going to assume it's the peas and green beans and move on. I figure, hey, no biggie. I can just change her in the parking lot of Winn-Dixie, and then she'll smell all fresh and clean like she's supposed to, and I will once again regain my status as mom-of-the-year.

There's a problem with this logic. The problem is this - Anna's daycare took all of the diapers out of her diaper bag and put them into her bin. That's great for them, but this leaves me stranded with a child who smells like a horse pasture on a 100 degree day. Delicious.

I go into panic mode. I try to think of what Macgyver would do in this situation, but then I realize he’s a man and wouldn't have done a thing. No offense to my one male reader. K? So, I decide to just say the heck with it and make my way into the store.

The wind was blowing the right way, so our trek to the store was pleasant. As soon as we walked through the automatic doors, horse pasture smell hit me like a ton of bricks. I decided at that point to basically run through the store like Mighty Mouse. Salad - check. Bread, check. Water, check. Chips, lots of chips, check.

All the while we're leaving poo vapors all over Winn-Dixie. I feel sorry for anyone within a 10 mile radius of Anna's foulness. I was immune to the smell at that point probably because my nose hairs and other important senses had been burned away.

We finally make it to the register to check out, and I noticed a young mother standing in front of me. She was so well put together - perfectly tailored skirt suit, matching shoes and purse, manicured nails, highlighted hair. Her kids didn't smell like poop. I looked down at my raggedy jeans and flip flops, unmanicured nails and toenails, felt my unhighlighted hair and realized at that point that I really need a stylist PRONTO. Actually, I need a personal shopper since I hate shopping so much. I need someone to go to a store for me and pick out an entire ensemble and then take my head off and go get my hair highlighted since I hate doing that, too.

Classy lady left. Then it was my turn at the register. The nice man standing behind us was too kind to hurl or gag in front of us even though I know he wanted to. I did notice, however, that he kept moving further and further back from us. Oh well, what are the odds I'll see him again? In this small town, probably pretty high.

I did manage to get out of there without making anyone pass out or vomit, so I guess that was an accomplishment. My poor child made one more wonderful attempt to stink up my car until we finally got home, and I could change her nasty diaper w/ salad tongs and sterile gloves.

Edited to add: Before anyone calls CPS on me, Anna's diaper wipeout wasn't nearly as bad as I made it seem in this blog. I like to embellish for story telling purposes. :) Also, I was in and out of Winn-Dixie in about 10 minutes, so she wasn't in her poop diaper for too long - I promise.