We're recuperating from a bug around here, so this post is only, oh, a week or so past due.
Late. It's how I roll.
How was your Turkey Day? Ours was mostly lovely. We went to my grandma's house and enjoyed extremely delicious food and the company of friends and family. Also, I didn't have to cook anything but pumpkin pie. Win? I think yes.
The problem was the ride home. We decided to go on a manic rampage around town to find a Redbox with Brave. I was driving, so of course we got lost (in my home town ... wait, was that north?). We finally found one at a McDonald's on the far side of town. But then, of course, we were at McDonald's and Grover was magically starving and I was all, wahh? did you not just devour half a turkey? But evidently there's something about those golden arches that signals the stomachs of men to say, "FEED ME FEED ME FEED ME."
|Let's do this thang. |
In a safe and law-abiding way, of course.
In case you're wondering, I totally made that face ...
By now it was time to feed Baby G again. I nursed her while Grover devoured his fifth (sixth?) meal of the day. All seemed well until I tried to put Princess Polka Dot back in her car seat. She started screaming like someone was pulling her toes off. I tried calming her down and rocking and cooing, gas drops, feeding her again. Nothing. She was mad and that was that. We thought maybe she would cool off when the car actually started moving, so I strapped the tiny ball of baby fury into her seat and we got on it like that guy in Fast & Furious. Sorta.
We had been in the car approximately 10 minutes when G started yet another round of horrible pterodactyl-esque screaming. We tried ignoring it, hoping the gas drops would kick in. That didn't happen, so we decided to go somewhere and walk around until the fit passed and she fell asleep. Nothing was open. I was pretty certain my ears were going to start bleeding if we didn't stop ASAP, so we pulled into the nearest available parking lot. It just happened to be Target.
I noticed a police car first. Odd, I thought. As we turned into a parking space, I realized the entire parking lot was packed at 7:30 p.m. What the heck was going on? There were lines upon lines of people with their faces pressed against the glass doors. Was there a bear loose in Target? A streaker maybe?
Then I remembered Black Friday, that quintessential holiday of American greed and utter disrespect for others in the name of a good deal on things we don't really need to be happy. Lovely.
I also remembered this scene from Zombieland.
The similarities between the two crowds were strikingly similar (forgive me for not taking a picture of the Black Friday zombies, but I had gone into "must get the baby calmed down" mommy brain thing).
People in pajamas and various states of undress, crazy hair, how all of them turned to glare at the sound of our car engine, even the red glints in their eyes (maybe from the reflection of the giant neon bulls eye, maybe not ... ). There was less blood, but that would most likely change once the doors opened.
My muscles started humming. I heard blood rushing in my ears. I mentally rehearsed all
Dang it, I really had to pee all of a sudden, too.
I was ready to fight off this horrid mob and protect my family.
But then somebody slapped somebody, and the attention turned away from us.
And we decided to park at Vitamin Cottage instead.
Cuz if there's zombies there, they'll probably be peace-loving hippie zombies who just want some sweet herbs, man.
Either way, I'd better work on my ninja skills.
|A rather accurate representation of me doing some awesome kung fu.|