My Sunday... By Jeanine Bobenmoyer

(SFX: Knuckles cracking, fingers being laid onto keyboard and typing resuming)



So Sunday was interesting. After enjoying a pleasant family meal at The Berkley Breakfast Club (I: multi-grain banana pancakes, Brad: biscuits/gravy, loaded hash browns, Hunter: French toast), we headed over to E and Laura's new house to check out the renovation progress.



Shortly thereafter, dropped Brad off at home, and H and I headed to do our usual Sunday morning grocery shopping. I was driving through our neighborhood and came across a couple of folks shoving a broken-down van out of the road. There were cars lining the street, making it terribly difficult to get through -- I attempted to squeeze by a huge truck and a Jeep, but only to almost side-swipe and come close to taking the mirror off the Jeep. Needless to say, the people sitting in the Jeep were none-too-pleased at my little stunt and were giving me the business. Wife was waving her arms angrily in the air while hubby just stared me down...We parted ways at the end of the street and I guiltily made my way to Meijer.


Hunter and I were 1/2-way through Meijer when he started getting super antsy. I had neglected to bring his sippy cup from the car (and thus was cursing my momentary stupidity) when he started unleashing his anger on me in Frozen Foods. I dug my arm into my purse in hopes of locating a toy or cracker packet of sorts when I realized my purse was soaking wet...

And that's when I saw it... my Son. Was. Leaking. From. His. Diaper. All over the produce in the cart. All into my purse. In the rush to get him out the door to the grocery, I'd forgotten to change his diaper. And yes, I too started crying.

Since the diapers in my purse were now soaked, I whipped the cart around and sprinted full force for the front door. Thank GOD I have an emergency pack of diapers and clothes in my car!!! Hunter was screaming, I was attempting to prolong his further shrieking by giving him Goldfish crackers which he was in turn throwing at anyone we passed in my sprint.

The extremely nice greeter at the front door took pity on me (perhaps it was my mascara-streaked face that he gave in to) and let me store my cart with him while I rushed out to the car cradle carrying Hunter so I didn't get pee on my clothes.

Since there is obviously NO changing table in the car, I attempted to change Hunter in the front seat with his head crammed next to the steering wheel, his bum hanging out facing every patron who passed us and him screeching up a storm. I'm truly surprised no one stopped me to ask what was happening.

FINALLY we make it back in the store, knock out the rest of our shopping and I'm contemplating leaving all of my peed-on-produce with the cashier (I mean WHAT do you say? I'm sorry, but all of this produce appears to smell like pee? I have NO idea how this could have happened?!). The people behind me in line entertain Hunter while I load up the conveyor belt with my goods when suddenly the man behind me asks me to hand him the divider. As I hand it over, our eyes meet and I'm instantly stricken with the need to vomit. It is none other than Mr. You Tried To Sideswipe My Car An Hour Ago man and his wife. And yes, he recognizes me too. The next 2 minutes felt like 50 as the cashier tried to make small talk over canned tomatoes and coo at Hunter. I have never fled from Meijer so fast in my life.

And that, my friends, was Sunday.