Welcome to your friendly neighborhood Woodlands super Walmart.

As I laid in the confines of my comfy king sized bed this morning, wearing my orange maternity tank top, with a baby grabbing handfuls of my hair, the husband and I discussed what we planned on doing that morning.

First a breakfast at a local French restaurant, where we could eat omlettes and sip coffee and feel young and suburban. I imagined cup after cup of coffee finding its way to my table, while my child played peacefully by herself and the husband and I discussed a variety of topics, only in a way two lovers can.

Well, I had two cups of coffee and the child played by herself. But we discussed blogging and bloggers and blogs. Yes, we discuss you people as if you’re our next door neighbors and friends.

To top it all off, we finished our “morning out” with a trip to our friendly neighborhood Wal-Mart. The reason for going so early was that “we won’t see every hick and hillbilly while we’re there.” Off we go, coupons in hand, baby in the car seat.

I felt my skin crawl the second I touched the basket. You see, the husband ingrained in me the notion of “Wal-Mart germs” when we lived in North Carolina. He convinced me there were more deadly germs at Wal-Mart so I had to be very careful what I did with my hands.

Before he told me that, I probably would have licked the handle on the basket. I just didn’t care.

But catching germs from Wal-Mart? From the same hicks I see, the hicks with a bad dye job and missing teeth? I don’t want their germs.

The only problem is that I like to touch my child. I kiss all over her face, rub her hair, touch her hands and nose with my hands. But at Wal-Mart? I can’t touch her. I have to resort to the Mama Bird Technique. Anything she needs must be given via mouth. She needs a diaper change? I’ll lift up her legs with my shoulder and attach the diaper snaps with my teeth. Hungry? I’ll mash up pieces of bread in my mouth and drop them into hers.

She’s crying? I’ll unsnap the car seat and carry her around with my teeth. I’m doing good, haven’t even touched her with my tainted hands. Then, as I’m standing in an isle, waiting for my husband to reappear, it happens.

Some lady runs up from behind me and TOUCHES MY CHILD. A lady I didn’t know, who DEFINATELY HAD WAL-MART GERMS, touches my child. I smile and quickly run away, unsure of how to handle this breach of etiquette.

Do I slap this lady’s hand away? Do I kick her in the shins? I’m a good southern girl. We just don’t yell at people for touching babies.

I might as well have pooped in her car seat and put my dirty hands in her mouth. I guess they weren’t kidding when they called it my Friendly Neighborhood Woodlands Super Walmart.

17 Comments

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  1. Ug! I’m that way about the hall pass in my classroom. Our principal INSISTS that everyone carry this big purple hall pass to the bathroom. UM… Excuse me Mr. Big Ideas for the Betterment of Our School…. When GUYS use the bathroom, where do their hands go? Um yes… to their dicks. Mmmhmmm. Then they grab the pass with their dicky hands. Even worse, they probably stuck the damn thing under their armpits while they’re holding the hose.

    Barf. And we all know 99.9% of teenage males do NOT wash their hands.

    Also, as the teacher, I get the supreme vantage point from above. You wouldn’t believe how many high school booger pickers there are who think they are undetectable to others while mining for gold.

    I give them 5 bonus points at the beginning of the year for bringing waterless hand sanitizer. I have at least 30 bottles of it (no joke) in my drawer, and I’ve become completely OCD about washing my hands with it. I do it at least 5-8 times during one class alone.

    Now I have to worry about Wal-Mart!

    Comment by ginger — 1/29/2005 @ 1:17 pm

  2. Who cares about freakin’ etiquette? If some strange lady came up to me and started touching my baby, I’d be doing some major cussing, especially if she didn’t ask me first.

    Comment by Jessica — 1/29/2005 @ 1:36 pm

  3. Wal-Mart germs are the WORST germs ever. I hate Wal-Mart.

    Comment by Corrie — 1/29/2005 @ 2:22 pm

  4. I never know what to do in that situation either. I can not be impolite to people, no matter what they’re doing, so I end up kind of holding my breath and panicking until they go away.

    Comment by Antonia — 1/29/2005 @ 2:57 pm

  5. I keep wipes in the car exactly for that purpose. Shopping carts gross me out, too.
    However, Wal-mart has other benefits. I am single, childless and use Wal-mart for a whole different purpose. Two words: Birth Control. I am definitely not at the right place in my life to have kids and I usually have my uterus firmly reined in. For those very rare times when idealistic baby thoughts start lurking around I simply go to Wal-mart and check out all the screaming kids and frazzled mothers. *poof* Single life starts looking very good again. When it is the right time for me to breed I figure Wal-mart will start to look like Heaven.
    As far as touching babies not your own- BOUNDARIES PEOPLE!

    Comment by Stacey — 1/29/2005 @ 3:31 pm

  6. I would have went with the kick in the shins thing, but I have always been protective of my offspring. :-)

    Comment by Jeff A — 1/29/2005 @ 4:09 pm

  7. I FUCKING HATE THAT!! Listen to this: so I’m hauling Gillian around, and I walk into this game store, looking for a nice set of backgammon. There’s no one in there except the clerk–a new mother of a baby boy, who just happens to be lying there on his back, while she’s working. Oh…it’s lovely, we connect right away. My girl’s name is Gillian. Her boy’s name is Killian. Oh lovely… I tell her how nice this is; usually Gillian doesn’t like just “hanging out” she wants action; she must be moving at all times (mind you, this was a few months ago…she’s down with sitting up now, meticulously playing with tags of toys–not toys, but their tags). This clerk is all…"oh that’s interesting…and SWOOOP, she picks up my baby from the stroller and starts goo-ing and gaa-ing in her face. Gillian commences to wail, and I’m all: “Ok, let me take her now” “No, no, no…” says this new mom; I do this trick with my son, and he stops immediately. So she walks away to the back of the store w/my baby; Gillian is looking at me like: ARE YOU FUCKING NUTS!?? SHE’S TAKING ME AWAY. So the woman gets a blanket and swaddles her like a newborn–something Gillian absolutely has hated from day 1 (yes, she’s very independent). Fucking Hell….it all comes crashing down now…she’s out of control, trying to escape this crazy woman…and I’m sitting there shaking my head and smiling (yes, I was calm believe it or not) and telling her: “uh…I don’t think you know my child very well…this isn’t gonna work, you better give her back to me.” And she’s insisting now: No no no….this really works. And I’m all…uh…no…I don’t think you know my baby; she’s always hated to be swaddled.

    Long story, I know…but finally she gave up and gave her back to me. It took her 30 minutes to calm down. I told my wife the story…my wife was ready to kill both me (for giving Gillian up) and the clerk.

    Fucking people and their ideas of how babies should be raised…

    Comment by LX Robotnik — 1/29/2005 @ 5:11 pm

  8. I always had the same problem with people touching my Stinker, never did find a polite way to tell them to fuck off.

    Walmart makes me sad. But Target doesn’t. Wonder why?

    Comment by MollieBee — 1/29/2005 @ 7:03 pm

  9. Yes, you slap them away like a dirty child molester because you don’t know for sure that they AREN’T a dirty child molester. You know, politely. What kind of person touches someone else’s kid anyway? I give old lady’s a little slack but thats only because I know I can take them. Everyone else pisses me off.

    Its weird looking but whenever I put my kids in a carriage, I always wipe anything they or I might touch with at least a butt wipe. But I recently found Purell hand wipes at BJ’s. Score! They were like $10 for 100 of them. Now I santize everyone, all the time. Just a thought.

    Comment by Em — 1/29/2005 @ 9:11 pm

  10. Ugh, I remember people touching my children when they were babies. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, I’d get this burning feeling in my stomach. To this day I even feel weird about touching friend’s babies. I dunno…

    Comment by some girl — 1/29/2005 @ 9:53 pm

  11. I love Target! The aisles are so W-I-D-E and junk=free.

    But I get a discount at Wal-Mart so I shop there.

    And Wal-Mart shopping carts are a hazard….they are RUSTY. And Wal-Mart shoppers do have Wal-Mart germs. It’s true. What does that say about YOU AND ME?! I disgust myself.

    Comment by Auty — 1/30/2005 @ 2:10 am

  12. Okay, you can tell my children were born just slightly before the Purell-age. I used to buy the boxes of individually wrapped pre-moistened alcohol wipes that the pharmacy sells for diabetics and disinfect any part of the cart my daughter could reach. She was very oral and would literally bend over and SUCK ON whatever parts of the cart were in her reach. UGH!

    Comment by Veronica — 1/30/2005 @ 1:22 pm

  13. LOVE the new design!!

    Comment by Kristine — 1/30/2005 @ 2:15 pm

  14. I realized that I so strayed from the point of this post. Yea…I gave up on the “germ thing” as soon as G started putting everything in her mouth. When I pick her up from daycare, I often find her on her belly, face down into the carpet, eating it/licking it.

    And so far…only one cold in 8 weeks of full-time daycare. A testament to breast milk.

    SJ…Laura’s going through the same kind of boobie pain you are. Always!

    lx

    Comment by LX Robotnik — 1/30/2005 @ 4:37 pm

  15. LX, that had me pissing myself. John-Malachy would have a freaking hernia if someone tried that on him. I hope that woman remembers this in six months.

    Comment by Antonia — 1/30/2005 @ 11:56 pm

  16. propecia
    We wish, in a word, equality - equality in fact as corollary, or rather, as primordial condition of liberty. From each according to his faculties, to each according to his needs; that is what we wish

    Trackback by propecia — 3/30/2005 @ 1:19 pm

  17. backgammon set up
    It is better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a pig satisfied. by backgammon games

    Trackback by backgammon set up — 4/4/2005 @ 10:35 pm

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