Shopping carts and ice

OK. So I'm dealing with all this ice and getting to and from work. It's been nice to get out of the house. I feel for poor Chance who has been stuck in the house with the kids all week long. Alas, school is closed for yet one more day.

Tristan has been pretty sick since the weekend with his asthma stuff, so I am glad that school has been out for his sake. Today I had to go get his albuterol prescription refilled so I decided to go ahead and do my grocery shopping when I picked it up. I have no plans to go this weekend if we are getting tons of snow. Plus I am supposed to work on Saturday. As we all know, the parking lots at many businesses are solid sheets of ice. When I arrived at the store right after work, there were a gazillion people there stocking up for the weekend. I have to park way in the back of the lot but I figure I could use the exercise and ice skating is pretty fun.

I fought my way through the store...often waiting at the end of the aisles for 10 people to get out so I could go in. Shopping cart rage filled me but I maintained and did my best to keep my upbeat attitude. I bought tons of stuff as everyone would be home needing snacks and lunch and of course, I have to plan dinners for several days. I went over budget as I always do, so I mentally prepare for the backlash from Chance. (Luckily he is worn out being Mr. Mom, so he ended up not asking! )

My feet are ready to get out of my boots and into my Elmo house shoes. I hate wearing coats so just getting rid of that baggage was also on my mind. I make it thru the cashier...she worries my cart is too full for everything. I tell her we will make it fit. I don't want to drag anyone to the car and have to find tip. I just want to get home.

I go outside and make my way into the sludge. By this time, the parking lot is pretty empty and there is my car...waaaaaaay at the end of the lot. It calls my name. I push the cart which is overflowing with stuff. Our beer, juice, potatoes and pop are on the bottom rack hanging on for dear life. I follow the little rut in the middle of the aisle. You can actually see the cement for a short bit. The cart is sliding a bit but it is manageable. I get to the end of the cleared out area and the bam. I hit the 5 inches of ice. I push and push. The cart stays right where it is. My bags are moving around, threatening to fall out. Chance's beer peeks out at me and holla's here we go! I push and shove and try to turn that darn thing to some part that will go and can't budge it. I feel headlights behind me.

I go the end of the cart and I lift up. All it needs is to be placed on top of the ice. The cart is so full, I can barely lift it up. As I do the back wheels start sliding. A beer rolls out in the street. This is where the profanity begins. I wiggle, maneuver, shove, lift and so forth. The cart won't budge. People are coming out all around me and getting their carts and bags safely to their cars. Here I am in the middle of the aisle, cussing like a sailor, chasing beer and kicking the cart. My shopping cart rage is way maxed out.

At this point I am probably 15 feet from my car - close but not close enough to unload all this crap. I think about getting in and backing the car up and bringing it to the cart. But... I remind myself I am in the middle of the road. So, I continue my ritual of manuevering, shoving, lifting and cussing. After God knows how long...I get the cart close enough. I look back and see how the wheels just turned sideways and made funny little ruts in the sludge. As I'm getting my keys out, a man drives up and asks if I need help. He witnessed my little feud with the cart. I tell him thanks, but I got it there and packing the car is no sweat. A little too late, but nice he asked. He tells me they need to put 4-wheel drive on the carts and bids me farewell.

I call Chance and tell him I'm on my way and that someone else is getting all this crap out of the car. I come in and put on my Elmo's while Chance and Taylor empty the car for me. I have missed over 30 minutes of American Idol so I sit in the chair and watch. Tristan is passed out on the couch. Thank goodness for the crazies on that show. It lightened my mood and I don't mind putting all those groceries up. Problem is I have to cook most of this junk. Oh well. What else is new?

I am exhausted reliving this over again. I guess the moral of my story is shopping carts and ice do not mix. I wish I could think of something cute and clever to add, but now I think I need to go lie down. Hope your shopping experiences go well.

Later dudes.