It was the stuff of fantasies–a Saturday, kids at the zoo with my in-laws and my husband and I were left peacefully alone to tackle our massive to-do list. Despite the stymieing length of the list, there was hope in the air. We had a boatload of errands to run, sure, but we could attack them without having to dedicate 16 minutes after every stop trying to wrangle children back into their car seats.
The mood was light, giddy with the potential of completing an entire task before the sun set. Stopping on our way for coffee to celebrate our good fortune, we were off.
Two hours into all our running, we were still cheerful as we pulled into Sam’s Club. Upon walking through the doors, I proudly yanked my membership card from the depths of my wallet and flashed it front of the bouncer. “Look at me! Leaving the house without kids! Getting things done on a Saturday morning!”, my head shouted. I was majorly bummed when the sweet elderly lady didn’t seem as impressed with me as I was.
Whatevs. This shopping trip was ON. We had driven in separate vehicles, as we thought the van might have to be left for the day so it could be suited up with new tires. Surprised to learn it would only take 45 minutes, my husband suggested we leave, cross a few more things off our list, and then return to pick up the van.
“But,” I ventured, wild possibility boiling inside me, “Can I stay?”
“You mean stay here while I leave? What would you do?”, he struggled to make sense of the insanity.
“I think I would shop.”
“Will you get bored in 45 minutes?”
Eyeing up some adorable new oven mitts in the corner of my eye right next to a fabulous pile of margarita-maker ball gadgets, I breathed, “No, no I don’t think I will…”
Shooing him away, I immediately realized my error of not grabbing a cart. What a fool I’d been!
Cart the size of a small flatbed secured, I dove into my glory and BEHOLD. The things! Clothing! Not all of which looked like something my grandmother would have worn in the 70s! And the most adorable pair of flipflops and a perfect baby gift for my sister.
Speaking of my sister, I’d better check to see if she needed any road atlases. Or cucumbers. So very many cucumbers. Do I eat enough cucumbers? Lots of quick texts sent to her.
I’d better send my husband and his friend a pic of the beekeeping novel I found too–might be fab for them to do some light hobby-relevant reading together?
And the Lysol–Holy Cow! What an amazing price on Clean Linen scent spray. And such a super deal on kids’ vitamins…now, actually, I was starting to get a little ticked, feeling as though I’d been thoughtlessly left in the dark. I called my sister, “Why have you never told me how awesome this place was?!”
“I thought you knew.”
“Well, I knew in the way I knew all things before I had kids. You were supposed to keep me updated.”
“You should be. Do you want more books about The Civil War?”
“I don’t have any. I don’t want any because I don’t read about it.”
“Fine. I’m stocking up on pizza in case you get hungry.”
“I don’t live with you.”
“You still might get hungry.”, Gracious, I hate it when she’s so illogical.
Blissful meandering continued, delightful treasures at every turn. This was the best Saturday morning of my life.
And then, right there before my very eyes, I saw It. The Post-it aisle. I think my heart actually skipped several beats. I whipped out my phone and immediately texted my husband and my sister, horrific feelings of being foolishly unaware flooding my being, “WHY HAS NO ONE EVER TOLD ME SAM’S CLUB SOLD SUCH CUTE POST-ITS?!”
My sister wrote back, “Jared, I’m so sorry.”
As I continued to shake my head in disbelief before the glorious stock of Post-Its, my husband returned from his errand run and walked up beside me.
“Jared…,” I exhaled and grabbed his arm.
“I know,” he said, “I know.”
Beautiful, beautiful Sam’s Club.