The last time I was at Walmart, I made a vow I would never go there again. And then today when I was out looking for a certain kind of hand-held shower head (I want it to attach to the faucet in my bathtub, not the shower head, not the kitchen sink...do they exist?) because I think it will ensure my sanity over winter with a poodle who likes to lay in mud puddles, and after Target and Petsmart, I went to Walmart. And just so you know from the start, Walmart didn't have what I was looking for.
I hate Walmart from about mid-October through mid-February. Why? Because they stuff the store that already has the most stuff with way more stuff, sticking it in the aisles, making some nearly impossible to pass through. Aisles should be aisles! Clear and easy. Not a minefield of dog beds, Walmart Scentsy's, Art kits, rounds of winter coats, "all of your Thanksgiving needs," and anything else you can [and can't] imagine. Regular trips to Walmart don't fall into my pleasant category, but it's like they sit and think up ways to make a trip to Walmart downright torture: "Let's make our "artery" aisles one-way!" "Oh! Especially during the busiest time of the year!" Ding ding ding, we have a winner!
I am tangent-ing. What I have to say is worse. Magnolia had to go potty, so we went to the family restroom. Okay, here's one thing for Walmart: the bathrooms at the back of the Belle Isle Walmart are award winners. They are pleasant surprises. It may just be massive amounts of air freshener being pumped into the air, but I never dread having to go when I'm there - but I'm trying not to be there, so this whole good bathrooms point may be obsolete...except for the real point of this paragraph - which I'm getting to. The toilet paper dispenser is full of not one, but two industrial sized toilet paper rolls. The remnant rolls are also on top of the dispenser. If someone were to run out of toilet paper in this bathroom, they would be seriously unlucky because of how well stocked it was this afternoon.
Magnolia goes, and I go to grab her some tp, and that's when I see it: one of the rolls on top of the dispenser (really about 1/4 of a big roll) has a big ol' poopy finger print on it. Like on the side of it. Like they had their hand in the cardboard roll, and stopped the paper when they'd unrolled the proper amount with their poo thumb. I was in shock. And shock more than disbelief like when I walk into a stall and wonder how someone didn't notice they peed all over the seat. Better yet, when I walk into a stall, and I'm not sure how someone failed to see that part of their poop didn't actually make it into the bowl. And then there's the less obvious, sort of, skid marks that some fail to wipe off the back of the seat. I can't imagine that I'm alone in my habitual turnaround to make sure that everything, whatever it was, made it down okay after I flush.
Back to the tainted roll. I get Magnolia taken care of (using a different roll - so happy to have had the option) and put her back in the cart. Then I knew I couldn't live with myself if I left the roll for someone else to discover, so I pick it up (far away from the poo print), and throw it away. This was followed by a very thorough hand washing, just in case. Cora had been watching me. When she asked me why I threw it away, I told her it was because of the poo. She looked at me for a second, then said,
"Mom, I can't believe you just threw away a whole tree."
And I couldn't think of a single thing to respond with.
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The weather has been cold and sleety here since Friday. Our church was cancelled on Sunday, and so were all of the things Jake needed to be at work for on Sunday afternoon/evening. He did, however, have to go to his work church that morning. I spent most of the morning thinking it was a bad call that they didn't cancel, especially when I heard that only 8 people in their congregation made it. When Jake got home, he told me that a homeless man wandered into the church (it happens a lot at this church). He was very cold, very much inebriated, and looking for shelter from the weather. A woman in the congregation went and got him a big warm coat (his was thin and soaked). Then, she helped him put it on. She slid it on one arm, went around, and helped him on the other side. She touched him. She helped him do what he could not. They called for a ride to come take him to a shelter. When Jake finished telling me this story, he said, "Church not being cancelled was worth it, just for that one thing." I know he's exactly right.
During lunch, I told him that one of our friends, Heather Price, had posted that she might break tradition and put the Christmas tree up since they were homebound for another day. (Heather has 6 kids. Coming up with indoor activities for three days straight for kids who range from 14-2 would have me "bending" traditions, too). We decided we'd also put our tree up before Thanksgiving because Jake wasn't going to have another day off like that until mid-December. It was so fun. We didn't have to "fit it in," it just happened. Our tree is glowing. Our nativity is on the mantel. We have random ornaments on the floor where Magnolia has decided to try them out as toys. I love it. I will love it even more when Jake gets home. (Only an hour left. 11:30PM. Gotta love tech.)