Perplexing. Surreal. Sweet.

This afternoon was 'different'.

It started with a dip into the perplexing, 

with a dash of the surreal

and topped off with a dollop of sweetness.

The surreal part was my quick trip to Wal-Mart, courtesy of my kind mother who came over the 'quiet time' hours of the day so I could slip out and do what needed to be done. We simply could not go another morning without banana's. Alright. So it really wasn't about the bananas. It was about the fact that the ONLY grocery store in our area to carry my favorite afternoon iced coffee drink is Wal-Mart. And I had been out for two days. No big deal AT all, considering many people go without clean water for far longer than that!

There I am at Wal-Mart, bobbing and weaving through the aisles like a rabbit on a Red Bull kick, trying to get what is on the tattered short list and get out. I took four of the five remaining boxes of my coffee drink, banana's, a few other grocery items and headed for the other side of the world store to pick up remaining items. In the sprint, I spied men's athletic shorts on sale. Since my studly stud is getting back into shape, and only has one pair of athletic shorts to his name, i thought I would be a good little wifey and pick him up another. After rummaging through a few racks, I found a satisfactory pair and threw them on the top rack of the cart and moved on.

As I zipped up to the check out line, I look down and notice a box of Frosted Mini-Wheats. 

Hmmmm...

I wasn't even in the cereal aisle. 

As my eyes scan the cart, I see product after product I clearly did not put in there.

The realization that I had someone else's cart came shortly thereafter.

Nevermind MY cart with MY PURSE was not the one I was pushing...I had left the cart with my four boxes of Iced Cappuccino unattended!  So I rush back to the men's "department", wondering just how one goes about reporting a missing cart and the risk of pleading 'guilty' to stealing another's cargo (albeit unintentional).

Gratefully, my little coffee-drink laden cart still sat next to the 10 dollar men's short rack.

There sat my purse, with it's contents still intact. I have much to be thankful for. I quickly tuck the shorts and other items I had placed in the wrong cart back, said a prayer that it might be easily reunited with it's rightful cart-pusher (who was probably perplexed over the rapture of her cart) and headed for the 20 item-or-less "speed checkout" line, where I waited for 10 minutes for the cashier to look up the five items without a bar code that the couple in front of me laid out before him. Speed was clearly not the name of his game. 

Waiting in line gave me an opportunity to observe. And please, know that i have nothing against Wal-Mart. It serves our community well. It, alone, has the wisdom to carry my coffee drink. It's just that, if I might be honest, I always feel like I am in a time warp or perhaps on another planet, when I am there. Maybe it's just the store I go to. I wonder, as I look around, does anyone besides me NOT have a mullet?  Today, there were mullets abounding, just as some days, there are a plethora of pajama bottom-clad shoppers shuffling the aisles. It just felt a little surreal. It always does.

Walking into my home, the surreal quality did not diminish, for there sat my daughter, wearing her panda-mask she adores (from her Pandamania VBS experience), brushing my mother's hair. That, in itself looked a little odd...but then seeing that my mother (who always looks put together) had allowed her (and my son) to bind up her hair into lopsided ponytails, left me wondering if I actually had entered the Twilight Zone back at Wally's. I never remember mom letting me brush her hair when I was little. But, then again, I wasn't her granddaughter. There is a whole different set of rules for the 'grands', I have come to find out (ie: "Jeane! Don't discipline her just because she's throwing the wooden rocking chair across the room in defiance! She's just tired, really. I can see the bags under her eyes. Just duck and then pick her up and hold her. All she needs is a good night's sleep.")

It was sweet.

Very sweet.

Even with it's odd qualities.

(and mom, being the considerate daughter I am, I did picnik these pictures,  using the 'soften' feature so that you would think twice before writing me out of the will by posting the pictures. Think about it.)

Here's to the living life with all  the perplexing, surreal and sweet moments it gives us!

Thanks for dropping by!