I’m sorry to use such strong language, especially in the title. I really am. But it really applies.

Today I woke up, not sure if a certain homeschooler bible study was going to take place or not. Eventually I determined that it was not. Which kinda bummed me out, because I thought I’d stop at the nearby WalMart to pick up a set of cheap sheets for one of the kids (2 kids, 2 beds, 2 sets of flannel, only ONE set of cotton summer sheets) and some cheap towels (darn birth supply list.. TEN towels? Sheesh!). Since they’re doing their back-to-college sale, it was a good idea. Even laundry baskets were on sale, and I’m always needing those. :]

But since the bible study wasn’t happening out there, I made arrangements with another nearby mom to take our kids to look at some fish (we’re easy to entertain around here). I was late, because I couldn’t find my wallet ANYWHERE. I knew it was ‘safe’, because I’d written a check to the midwife on Monday here in my very own living room, and hadn’t left since then. We finally found it, and met her and her kids at “the fishies.” She has 4 kids; 5 year old twin girls, a 3 year old boy, and a 1 year old. I tossed around the idea of going to the OTHER WalMart anyway, since my errand list for Friday was getting mighty long as it was.

When the other mom offered to come with us, I decided to do it. I mean, I’ve never been a part to one of those “two crazy moms and alllll their kids taking a field trip to WalMart.” I mean really.. I don’t know that I’ve ever been so cliche, so stereotypical. We stopped at her house for a drink of water and to use the potty, and she fed us before we took our family-rigs to that one store.

We browsed around, I got what I needed, plus bananas, and we made it through the checkout lines, all with only several minutes of one of the ‘babies’ screaming, kids fighting, or begging – or, my favorite part, my older girls climbing on to her cart (you know the ones with the extra-kid seating, making them all long and awkward?) for a ride, so the poor woman held her youngest (who was pinching and pulling hair to her siblings earlier) in one arm, and maneuvered the cart with five – FIVE! – kids holding on or riding here and there. SHE got some looks, lemme tell ya… šŸ™‚

So we made it through the blistering heat to the vehicles, and parted ways from there… I handed out bananas in the back of the van (*note to self, check for peels*), and carted us all home.

Hubby was let off early today (so they don’t have to pay the overtime for his long day yesterday?), and was home when we got back at 3, and was setting to work making a door for the chicken coop. Another door. One that withstands the wind better, we hope. He needed hinges though, and wanted to know where my wallet was.

In the van, of course.

Or not.

In the diaper bag?

No.

Maybe in the laundry basket full of new towels?

Notsomuch.

Uh oh…

This time I wasn’t sure it was so safe. I was pretty sure the cart was empty when I abandoned it in the parking lot, but the advertisement was there… what if my wallet was still underneath…?

Uh oh…

WalMart hadn’t seen it.

The bank put a hold on my debit card.

American Express did the same.

I wondered about the $200 of grocery money inside, but was thankful that I didn’t still have a dozen or more unused and ignored credit cards hanging around in it. I wouldn’t have known where to start jogging my memory on those.

So I’m praying I don’t have to open a new checking account, since I’ve used all of 7 checks out of the four boxes that I just ordered last month, and that someone *honest* will find it… soon?

***UPDATE***
Some blessed Bryan grabbed the cart – which was still where I left it, apparently, some 2+ hours later, and found my wallet. He called (I think our phone # is on our checks), and was very kind. He and his family were even going to deliver it to my house, until noticing my address wasn’t right in town. I asked him if he’d give it to the WalMart customer service to put in their safe, and he did so.

I looked up the name on my caller ID and found his mailing address, drove to WalMart, retrieved my wallet, bought a Thank You card, stopped at Lowe’s for Hubby, went to another grocer hoping for some ‘red band’ cheap bananas (ended up buying pasteurized milk and honey nut cheerios. I am so naughty, I know), then drove towards home.

And got stopped by a cop, having not slowed enough to go through his town. *gulp* I was glad I had my driver’s license with me by this time, and though he said I was 15 over (1 more mile and I’d get a $150 ticket!), he let me go with a verbal warning. I’m so glad. I mean, reaching over to the glove box (for the insurance and such) with this belly, after this day (I didn’t tell you about the part where my potty-trainer pooped in my new friend’s backyard, and I ended up with it on ME, having to scrub my dress before leaving to WalMart the first time), that was enough punishment, really. I will be much more careful. I will use the brakes, even though it screams “wasting gas!” when I do (I miss the ability of my stick-shift to slow itself via the RPMs). And tomorrow, when I’m home all day buried in laundry, I will at least be glad that I have my wallet, and that I can’t be pulled over for speeding.

I should’ve called this post, “Close Calls.”

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