Walmart

Driving Mr. Mascot, Part 2

/ Quirky Girl / 27 Comments

Slow down.

Slow down!!

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SLOW THE @&*% DOWN!!!

With 30 minutes to spare after dropping my younger child off at his guitar lesson…

It was the perfect opportunity to continue working with my older son (a.k.a. Mascot Boy) on his driving skills.

And so he took the wheel.

Figuring it was only three miles from the music school to our house, it wouldn’t necessarily be an unreasonable walk for my younger one if scary driver Mascot Boy and I didn’t make it back alive from driving practice.

Unfortunately, the fact that it’s been unseasonably hot out made it a less than optimal scenario.

But it’s always good to have a plan, right?

Mr. Mascot decided he’d like to practice in a shopping parking lot that day.

Did you know different rules apply in parking lots?

Namely, there are no rules .

Especially in a Walmart parking lot.

Between vehicles blindly pulling out in front of other traffic with no regard to right of way, and overall mayhem in general…

The very notion of safe driving seems to go right down the toilet.

All I knew is that I sure as hell didn’t want to die in the Walmart parking lot.

I’d rather get eaten by my dog.

Not that my precious Jett would ever eat me.

But still.

Dying at Walmart/in the Walmart parking lot is definitely not the way I’d like to go.

Especially with a 16-year-old driver behind the wheel.

And not only does this 16-year-old believe he already knows everything there is possibly to know about driving…

I’ve somehow recently ended up with two backseat drivers whenever I’m driving.

Because even though my 13-year-old hasn’t had any formal driving instruction, he too  believes he now magically knows everything there is to know about driving.

Specifically, that he and his brother know everything.

And I, the driver with two decades of experience, know nothing.

As if I suddenly need coaching on how to safely maneuver a vehicle.

That didn’t feel like a complete stop.

You forgot your turn signal! Right in front of that cop over there!

I’m pretty sure even I have better judgement than you!

Meanwhile, Mr. Mascot has taken a liking to barreling full-speed toward red lights.

I’m starting to think I ought to be wearing a blindfold when I’m in the passenger seat.

He attempted to park next to the only car in the back row of the parking lot.

Which happened to be a BMW vaguely resembling The Batmobile.

Which happened to be one that we really can’t afford to gently nudge from behind or do a drive-by mirror sideswipe on.

After one unsuccessful attempt of parking straight in between the lines, I strongly encouraged him to find a different spot.

Away from other cars.

All other cars.

After surviving the Walmart parking lot, we headed back to the music school to pick up child number two.

We arrived safely.

The parking lot was under heavy construction.

So we soared over a massive mud bump, Dukes of Hazzard style.

But ultimately, we didn’t get pulled over by any cops.

And even more importantly, we survived.

So it’s a win.

I’ve come to realize that my son’s learning to drive comes at a price.

The expense of fuel.

And the expense of my sanity.

Which has long been precariously dangling by a thin thread.

Oh, but at least I’m getting a break from driving, right?

If your idea of a break is anxiety, panic, or a heart attack, then yes.

Thanks to me, my dear child, you are gaining experience.

Thanks to you, my dear child, I seem to be losing experience.

Or my sanity.

One of the two.

Or both.

~Happy Saturday, friends! Click here if you’d like to read Part 1 of our exciting driving experiences. Have a great weekend, and watch out for nervous Student  Drivers and their equally terrified parents! Haha!~

The Danger Zone... it's a real thing.

The Danger Zone… it’s a real thing.

Back to School Blues

/ Quirky Girl / 19 Comments

It’s that time again.

Back to school time.

Yippee.

More like back to gaaah!

Can you feel the enthusiasm?

Yeah.

Me, neither.

Nobody wants to get out of bed bright and early for school.

Including me.

Especially me.

The novelty has already worn off.

And it hasn’t even been a full week.

Sure, my boys have been complaining of acute boredom for the last ten weeks.

But rarely is a child so bored that they eagerly anticipate returning to school.

My younger son seems especially over it already.

By day two, his alarm clock lay on the floor in pieces, its batteries scattered haphazardly.

It’s no fun for me, either.

There’s the stressful challenge of packing lunches they’ll actually eat.

And having to make sure they’re sanitary enough to be seen in public.

And worst of all…

Homework.

That’s no fun.

For anyone.

Not only that…

Yesterday, we had to do a second round of school supply shopping.

Because once obviously was neither fun enough nor expensive enough.

Or sanity-endangering enough.

Hooray for Walmart and their disorderly heaps of leftover back to school crap!

I mean, supplies.

And so it’s back to battling the clock.

And traffic.

And Walmart.

Yikes.

But now that the kids are back in school, it’s a great time for me to work on catching up on all the things I’d fallen behind on this summer.

Like cleaning.

And writing.

And reading.

And more cleaning.

Oh, who am I kidding?

I’ve somehow managed to fall behind in life as a whole.

I’d probably settle for catching up on sleep, at this point.

But there’s no rest for the weary.

Or the worried.

It’s hard to sleep while my mind gallops off like a crack-addicted race horse.

By the same token…

It’s also hard to accomplish anything that way.

So much to do.

So little motivation to do any of it.

But, hey.

At least my kids are being more productive at the moment.

They’re probably learning something  at school.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

So long, lazy days of summer.

Hello, back to school madness.

If nothing else, it’s back to devising ways of embarrassing my kids at school functions.

I suppose that counts as being productive.

Right?

~Happy weekend, friends! And Happy Birthday to my favorite mascot boy! Woo hoo!~

Augh! Not this again! Didn't summer just start?!

Augh! Not this again! Didn’t summer just start?!

Stupendously Speedy Stipends

/ Quirky Girl / 39 Comments

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Ha!

Like I had much choice in that matter.

I mean, short of bolting off on an attempted high-speed chase.

Which surely would’ve been quickly thwarted by the abundance of farm machinery and construction vehicles that typically dominate the roads out here.

Apparently, going to Walmart wasn’t punishment enough for one day.

I got carded for purchasing canned air as I was checking out.

Little did I know I’d be whipping out my driver’s license again 10 minutes later.

I guess I should’ve stayed home.

Who needs toilet paper and laundry detergent, anyway?

“Do you know why I pulled you over today?”

“Oh my God! Is there somebody under my car?”

Okay, no.

I did not actually say that.

I merely shook my head no in reply.

I don’t drive on the sidewalks.

I don’t plow over pedestrians.

I keep my vehicle out of cow pastures.

I’m fairly cautious, I’d say.

Minutes from home, I’d been driving up and over a teeth-jarring railroad track when I noticed telltale flashing lights in my rearview mirror.

Of course, it would be an unmarked police car.

On a one-lane road.

With no shoulder.

And no place to turn for at least half a mile.

Nothing but a long stretch of nothingness.

What was I supposed to do?

Pull off the road, into a field of hay barrels?

Preferably one full of disgruntled Longhorns?

So I crept along with those obnoxious lights flashing behind me until I pulled up to an industrial park.

Right between the shift from a 30 mph zone to a 45 mph zone, the officer’s trusty radar gun had clocked me at 43 mph.

In the 30 mph zone.

Coming down a steep hill, it’s easy to quickly gain speed if you’re not paying  attention.

He asked for my license, but didn’t bother with proof of insurance or registration.

Must’ve had sufficient time to run my plates as he was coasting along behind me, waiting to see if I’d eventually pull over.

I’m sure the motorcycle endorsement on my driver’s license didn’t earn me any brownie points, either.

Sergeant Scowly Dude didn’t look like a guy who believed in giving people the benefit of the doubt and sending them off with a warning.

I’d never, ever gotten a speeding ticket in my life.

Twelve years ago, I had been pulled over at 4:30 in the morning on the way to my final shift of work before maternity leave by an officer who had been pacing me.

At 39 weeks into pregnancy with my younger son, I nearly knocked myself out by hitting my head on the visor when asked for my license, registration, and insurance.

The officer looked on in a mix of sympathy and pity while toy airplanes and diapers flew out of my glove box as I attempted to dig out the requested paperwork.

In all fairness, I hadn’t slept in nine months, which might have been a factor.

For the whole incident.

That kindhearted officer let me off with a warning.

But this guy?

It wasn’t looking promising.

And with a mess of frizzy hair from an unfortunate combination of high humidity and rain, my typical adorableness wasn’t likely to do the trick, either.

This would’ve been a good time to have my charming kids in the car, surely?

Or my sweet, affection dog?

I’m usually sandwiched in traffic between tractors and cement mixers.

Or the occasional runaway cattle who manages to wedge, squeeze, and squish his way through narrow wire fencing to freedom.

And so I consider myself fairly lucky on days where the opportunity allows me to go more than 15 mph behind a bulldozer.

I’ve actually been passed by a semi truck a time or two.

A semi truck, for God’s sake!

Do I sound like the maniac here?

And yet, I received a whopping $250 fine.

Yikes.

I have nothing against cops.

There are countless decent ones out there who do good deeds and give back in immeasurable ways.

At any rate, I’ve been brainstorming less traditional modes of transportation.

Ooh!

I’ve got it!

Nobody ever gets pulled over on a cow!

At least, not to my knowledge.

Unless, perhaps, by a cop on a galloping horse…

The only problem is, I don’t have a cow.

And I would hate to end up with an even heftier fine, or worse yet, behind bars, for alleged cow-snatching.

Perhaps I ought to find me a Longhorn.

Nobody in their right mind is gonna want to mess with that.

Just strap on a backpack with a skunk inside for extra good measure, and voilà!

Good to go!

As a bonus, fewer suicidal animals would have the opportunity to make me an unwitting accomplice as they attempt to nosedive/hop/slither to their death at the hands (or would it be body?) of my vehicle if I’m not actually in a vehicle.

So there is that.

But I suppose this whole situation could’ve been avoided in the first place if I’d been riding a skunk or an armadillo.

Or if I’d stayed home.

And believe me, I’d be perfectly okay with not going back to Walmart again anytime soon.

~Happy Friday, everyone! Have a great weekend, and drive safely!~

Hint: It's not actually a ticket (or two) to paradise...

Hint: It’s not actually a ticket (or two) to paradise…

Sadistic Shopping Frenzy

/ Quirky Girl / 45 Comments

God, no.

Not this again.

How is it already that time again?

I’m just not ready yet.

And I’m pretty sure my kids aren’t, either.

Want to know the secret to blowing through loads of money in a matter of hours?

Have kids!

Have lots of kids!

And then cram those crazy kids into the car and go shopping for their gazillion back to school needs!

I don’t even want to think about how much we’ve already spent.

And I only have two kids, not a whole busload of them.

Yeesh.

With a week and a half until school starts, we hadn’t gotten around to shopping for most of the necessary school supplies.

Until yesterday.

Prior to yesterday, we’d only managed to shop for underwear, socks, and shoes.

And very little else.

Because last week was far too soon to even think about all this back to school nonsense.

And because I’m clearly a glutton for punishment, we went to Walmart.

Or, more specifically, we went to Walmart twice.

In one day.

So much for one-stop-shopping.

The only redeeming thing was that we’d gone to two different locations.

Walmart #1  had most of what we needed…

 But it didn’t have much of a selection of binders.

Who knew it was so difficult to find the perfect binder?

One that zippers shut and doesn’t pop open and create an explosive mess?

Is that too much to ask?

And we just had to have pens in a minimum of 5,000 different colors.

And that mini automatic pencil sharpener…

Because who in their right mind enjoys the tedious task of sharpening six dozen pencils in one sitting?

It was either that, or pay five times the price for the convenience of pre-sharpened pencils.

At least the pencil sharpener will pay for itself soon enough.

If it lasts long enough, that is.

But at least I knew better than to wait until tax-free weekend to start shopping. 

I can barely handle Walmart on a good day.

An hour of pushing and shoving my way through Walmart is almost enough to drop me to my knees in the center of the wine aisle while hyperventilating into a paper bag.

So there we were at Walmart, smack in the middle of the chaos.

Like that’s ever a good idea.

And then those boys of mine did what they do best:

They wandered off to the electronics department. 

So much for that.

Ten minutes later, they were busy trying on new heads.

Plush mascot heads, that is.

For whatever unfathomable reason, there was an enormous bin of assorted animal heads by the checkout area.

Such an interesting choice of so-called impulse items.

Was Walmart getting ready for Halloween?

In August?

As if back to school madness wasn’t already maddening enough.

But at least I managed to buy myself some cool new notebooks. 

Because why the hell not, right?

Besides, I needed a few more notebooks.

It sure beats scribbling my jumbled, random thoughts on toilet paper in the middle of the night.

Anyway…

A few days earlier, I had taken my younger son to Dick’s Sporting Goods to look for clothes.

Usually, he’s all about Nike.

Nike, Nike, Nike.

And nothing else will do.

But he didn’t like a single article of clothing at Dick’s.

He did, however, see exactly one backpack he liked.

An $80 Under Armor monstrosity.

More heavy-duty weapon than child-friendly carryall, it resembled The Hulk, condensed and smashed into a sturdy, yet incredibly unsightly, backpack.

Its water-resistant properties and ability to take out a large rodent obviously justified the exorbitant price tag.

I would have considered spending that much on a single backpack…

If- and only if- my child would’ve been willing to walk to and from school every time it rained.

You know, to get our money’s worth.

Oh, and it would’ve also needed to last until he’s 18.

At the very least.

Sounds reasonable enough, no?

Needless to say, we left without getting a backpack.

He didn’t like anything else there…

But he did buy a plush deer.

Priorities, priorities.

I suppose there’s no need for shirts or pants when he’s perfectly content wearing nothing but shorts and his favorite hoodie, anyway.

But alas, it’s almost time again.

Back to the madness.

Back to school.

As long as we make it through the year without telling everyone to Go to Michigan, I’m sure we’ll be just fine.

~Happy Friday! Can you believe it’s August already? Where is the time going? Geez! Anyway, hope you all have a fantastic weekend and enjoy the last few weeks of summer break!~

This, apparently, is what school supply shopping looks like...

This, apparently, is what school supply shopping looks like…