It's a Monday morning. I know there's a whole big stance about the "horrible Monday" scene, but I actually don't mind Mondays. Now, Wednesdays? Wednesday is my least favorite day of the week. That day is full of hustle & bustle & popping frozen TV dinners in the microwave because there's no time for anything else. And kiddos getting to bed late because of church activities, which means they wake up cranky the next day.
I just finished a bowl of generic corn flakes. I ate them fast. Quick as lightning. I eat all my morning breakfast cereal in a speedy fashion. Because soggy cereal is just a morning ruiner. But that's about all I do in the morning that falls under the category "Lickety Split".
As I plan my to-do's for the day, I realize it includes a trip to my least favorite place to go during the Christmas season: Walmart. I need groceries. I'm stocking my pantry for the fine Christmas meal I'll be making this year. I actually haven't cooked a lot of fancy holiday meals in my time. When I've always lived near my mom who cooks it up every year, (or other people's mom's who cook it up & invite me over), why would I bother with the trouble? Bringing my offering of dinner rolls or stuffed celery has always been adequate enough. But now that the Mr. & I & the littles have been out here in the midwest on our own for a few years now, it's high time I attempt to whip up a tasty Christmas feast. But still, it's intimidating. Overwhelming. And this year we're inviting over a few folks who, like the WhiMSY love clan, don't have family of their own around. And I want to make it special. Like their mom might have made it.
Have you been to the baking aisle at Walmart lately? That's the aisle with all the flour, sugar, spices, seasonings, shortening & such. That aisle is serious mayhem. Carts so crowded you can't even get by. And if you get caught in the baking aisle lane, you'll be guaranteed to move at a snail's pace. I was just at Walmart yesterday, with Zoey. (I know! Why do I torture myself 2 days in a row?!) I let her push the cart. Until she clipped the back of my heel. Then it was mommy's turn.
I needed marshmallows, for my making-rice-krispie-treats plans. And the marshmallows are on the baking aisle. Zoey stayed with the cart, which I practically parked in the very next aisle. "I'm going in," I told her. And I began to wiggle & twist & hop & turn about from one end of the aisle to the very item I needed. Like a basketball player dodges his opponents, I cut right, faked left, maneuvering shopping carts like a beast. All of this strategy for a 10 oz. bag of soft candy.
I have some friends who work at Walmart. They are all part of the late-night/early-morning crew that stock the shelves & such. They recently told me the best time of day to shop at Walmart is between 6 & 7 in the morning. Well, that's not ever happening. Do you know what I'm doing at 6 in the morning? I have the most amazing view: the back of my eyelids. And do you know what I'm doing at 7 in the morning? I'm quickly eating cereal.
So I'll just fight the crowds later.
On this fine Monday.