Taking a break from writing a fascinating batch of articles, I felt compelled to recount my horrific Wal-Mart experience on Sunday. I am doing a butt-load (that’s right I said butt-load) of Christmas baking as gifts for teachers and such. I cannot afford to buy them what I want to so I’d rather show them some love with the kind of candy and yummies that you can’t buy at the grocery store. All this baking required a pretty hefty list of supplies that I just had to get on Sunday afternoon.
I could have saved myself some sanity going to the grocery store and Target to get what I needed, but something in my crazy preggo brain said, “No! Go to Wal-Mart and get everything you need!” Perhaps it’s all the subliminal messages from TV advertisements. Nevertheless, I gave into the crazy voice and hauled off alone to Wal-Mart despite Jason’s warnings. I should listen to my husband. Really, I should.
The parking lot was a sea of badly parked vehicles. I thought to myself, “Man, I wish they had expectant mother parking . . . but then that would be the entire parking lot wouldn’t it?” Sigh. I drove around in circles, waited behind cars stalking parking spots and finally decided if the couple in their 80’s could park in Timbuktu, so could I.
I stepped into the entryway to see that there were no carts left with the exception of two with the infant seats in them. I considered it for a minute but then didn’t want to seem too desperate for this kiddo to get here! 🙂 I grabbed a hand-held instead and took off, list in hand. Ugh, so many people! Not only is it a week and a half til Christmas, we were expecting a winter storm. This understandably sends people into a tailspin after last year’s awfulness. It wasn’t long before my little basket got heavy and started to get hot, and preggos don’t do hot. It makes us angry.
While roaming through the Christmas section I notices an abandoned cart. Yay! Two seconds later I realized why someone abandoned said cart; it was in serious need of some WD-40. Yikes! This thing squeaked so loud it was causing other shoppers to stare, but my coat was off and my goodies inside. I was committed. As I squeaked into the craft section I saw another abandoned cart and after noting that it was squeak-free, I ditched the squeaker.
Okay, a smooth ride, not hot – I felt okay . . . till I got to the groceries. Apparently I am not the only one who bakes at Christmas (duh) and many of the odd items I had hoped would be stocked aplenty were bare or gone. I got the last box of egg whites – really? Egg whites?! I guess several people will be making royal icing too? Also, to my dismay, no Jet-Puffed Marshmallow Creme. You know, the good stuff in the jar. Not only was it nowhere to be found, it looked like it had never been there. Sigh. Also, no caramels. For real?! I just wanted a package of the individual wrapped Kraft cubes. Sure, I could make my own caramel (I think . . .) but I was not in the mood to experiment. I searched in vain for a Wal-Mart employee, and like the Toys-R-Us people, I am pretty sure they were hiding from the masses. I would.
As I was making my final stroll through the baking aisle, hoping in vain to find the Marshmallow creme, another bedraggled shopper looked at me and said, “I hate this place!” Well said. Me too.
By the time I made my way through the snaking line at the checkout I was grouchy, hot again and frustrated that the Wal-Mart commercials had done their duty and made me believe that I could find everything in one place. Jason ran to Target for me later on and rounded up the rest of my goodies, except for the marshmallow creme. It appears Oklahoma City has none. It has all been bought! However, I googled “Substitute for Marshmallow Creme” and guess what? I made my own. Oh yeah. I felt pretty sassy. Large marshmallows and 2 teaspoons of light corn syrup melted in a double boiler. It’s cheaper too.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed my rant. Merry Christmas!