And now, for something completely crazy

Going to Wal-Mart on a Saturday afternoon is an exercise in insanity. I tend to return from such trips in a total mental fog from the sheer ridiculousness of the experience.

Apparently there are great masses of folks out there who care deeply for one another but only get together at the ends of store aisles, where overheard greetings rival Hallmark sentiments. "Whatchoo bin doin'?" "Hey girl, you at the sto'? "Heyhawyoo?" (Yes, that last one is all one word."

Another startling realization - I seem to become invisible upon entering the building. This must explain why I can never get past these touching family reunions. It also could be the reason why folks pull their carts out in front of me as if they just got the green light at a NASCAR track.

My daughter, on the other hand, must have a spotlight shining on her because there is no end to the line of people who will remark at her cuteness. This does not bother me. Their proximity to my daughter while making such comments, however, causes me great consternation. Please, people, you're germy and she, for the moment, is not. Yes, I know her cuteness has it's own gravitational field, but please resist the temptation to fall in and touch her fingers!

I'm getting the idea that shopping with children who can walk and/or talk makes a parent want to swear at said children. The smaller the difference between the age of the parent and the child, the louder and more obnoxious the swearing becomes. This increases exponentially with more than one child.

And you know you've been to Wal-Mart too much when you recognize employees of the store who are out of uniform and doing their own shopping. I fully expected to be greeted by a sweet little man who was buying himself some lunch meat.

I need help.