Typically, I don't go to Walmart. I made an exception today; I just needed one thing, and Walmart was closer than the grocery store. It was close to lunch, and we'd had a busy morning.
I go into Walmart, get my one item, unload the girls and head home.
As I'm getting Hadley out of the car, I notice something terribly wrong. The stroller is not in the back of the car.
Panic sets in.
I fasten the girls back in their car seats and tell them that we need to pray. Hadley answers by giving me the sign for "truck" (one was driving past us) and Brynne answers by giving me the sign for "drink".
Yes Hadley, Mama is praying that our abandoned stroller doesn't get hit by a truck too. Brynne, Mama will definitely pray that there's enough wine in our house tonight.On the way back to Walmart I'm imagining how I'll tell Brad.
We arrived at Walmart, and I went back to our parking spot.
So, you know that $650 stroller I just had to have? You know, the only stroller we own? Yeah. Well, I decided to give it away to someone at Walmart.
I get the girls out of the car, take them by the hand, and begin walking. We see a shopping-cart-bringer-inner-person, so we head over to chat with him.
He hadn't seen our stroller.
Brynne decides she doesn't want to walk, so I'm carrying her and holding Hadley's hand.
[Side note--I never take the girls into any store without the stroller. Not. Ever.]
I'm praying as we walk into Walmart that I can act with grace, because I feel myself crumbling.
I'm walking too fast. Hadley trips and face-plants into the asphalt. Great.
I pick her up, apologizing to her profusely.
So, now I'm carrying both girls into Walmart. One in each arm.
I head strait to customer service, where there is clearly no stroller present. As I'm telling the woman behind the counter that I'd driven off without my stroller, I burst into tears.
She goes to get a manager.
Hadley demands to get down, and begins to throw a fit.
So, there I am, sitting on the floor of Walmart, right in front of the automatic exit doors, attempting to pacify Hadley, holding Brynne, and I'm crying.
Not just crying. Ugly crying. Sobbing-tears-snot-running-down-my-face kind of crying. So much for grace.
This lady stops to ask me if I needed help. She opens a just-purchased box of crackers and gives some to Brynne and Hadley. Clearly, sobbing on the floor of Walmart brought me to an all new low, where in I would allow a complete stranger to give my children food.
There were three manager-type people trying to figure out where the stroller was. They assured me that if it was taken, they have security cameras in the parking lot. That made me feel a little better.
Then, the head manager guy comes around the corner pushing our stroller. Hallelujiah!
I had no dignity left at this point, so I did what any thankful, dignity-less person would do--I ran over to that Walmart manager and gave him a big hug. So not like me. I'm pretty sure I left snot on his shirt.
I hugged cracker-lady too.
Someone walked my stroller to safety in the lawn and garden section, answering Hadley's prayer, protecting our stroller from getting hit by a truck.
And as to Brynne's prayer about drinks, the wine fridge is fully stocked. Can't wait till Brad gets home from work. There's a bottle of red zin with my name on it.
In leiu of tattooing a reminder across my hand, check out my steering wheel: