**This post may contain language. But no nudity. Viewer discretion is advised!**
I broke my vacuum. AGAIN. This being the third vacuum in three weeks. I am STILL CERTAIN it is just God letting me know that a) I need to hand over vacuuming duties to someone else...or b) I need hardwood floors.
It does state "He knows the desires of our hearts" yes? So clearly, He is trying to tell me something. Mike has yet to hear Him.
After much thought, I decided to take the third vacuum back. I had only purchased it the week before, and broken the belt twice. I settled the kids, vacuum and myself into the van and set off to Wally World. Not a treck or venture that any of my children enjoy, but one that I wanted to get over with. I needed my vacuum. Even if I didn't use it, I needed to know I had one and could obtain clean floors at a moments notice. The thrill of a clean carpet moved me to set out on this excursion.
About 1/2 hour after leaving, we made it to 'customer service'...Hannah helped by wheeling the vacuum from the van into the store...when we got to the desk, it was not only covered in the dirt from our renovating basement, but managed to obtain some puddle water, a nick from the curb, and possibly a crack or two from Isaiah trying to sit on it while we walked. I was still smiling..all is well.
We were 4th in line. Not too bad. Could be worse. It was vacuuming we're talking about here! Squirmy #1 and #2 found a plant. Managed to knock it over. I was still smiling..although the man behind me did not find it as funny as I. Baby started screaming. Must be tired right? Or was she getting as impatient as I was? The woman in front of me kept looking behind at me. Was there something on my face? Had I looked in the mirror this morning? I couldn't remember. When I got to the counter, the lady didn't even ask about the vacuum. She took my reciept and gave me the money. Odd. Wasn't she to ask me if I wanted an exchange? Must be the lineup! Isaiah was now behind the desk rolling the vacuum around. I was still smiling.
Even this organized, overachiever likes a good adventure now and then...so we set out to get a few baking goods. Well, I set out to get some baking goods...the kids set out for a good old game of hide and seek.
An hour later I had found some lard and butter. Excellent. And since the kids were so well behaved, we decided to get some french fries. By this time we were all ready for some grease.
There were atleast 8 people in line. No problem. Could be worse. It is french fries we're talking about here! I decided I would seat the children and then wait in line. We found a table smack dab in the middle of the store. A lovely old lady was beside us, perusing her recently purchased photos. I started to situate the children, looking after toques, coats..etc when I noticed the lady "harumphing". You know, sighing VERY LOUD. As if she were ticked off at something, but noone knew what. She proceeded to hastily pick up her pictures that she was ever so carefully laying on the table. Something, and something bad, had set her off! Hmm..odd. I continued my undressing. (so there is nudity...sorry!) She continued to "harumph" and then began to glare at us. Then she turned and almost ran to the other side of the store to find a seat.
I settled the kids, went to line up. The lovely old lady quickly walked beside me and budded in front of me. Odd. I almost felt bad for her. I kindly touch her and said "Excuse me. I hope that we didn't make you move from your seat?" As she turned, I knew that I should not have spoken. This lovely old lady, suddenly grew 6 feet and spewed "IT"S NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS WHAT I DO" to an oblivious, smiling me. All 15 people in line, (it had grown) turned to look at this lovely old lady, and ME.
Odd.
For 30 seconds I stood shocked. Then I slowly, infectiously, started laughing. As I looked back at my children, I noticed they were gone. Oh no they weren't. Isaiah was laying on the floor and Hannah was sitting on him.
Ahhh...yes, this is what life is about. French fries, vacuuming and children.
I was still smiling.
