The Mini Van Soap Box

I know I've told ya'll before, but in case you forgot, I have Tuesdays off of work.

Every Monday that rolls around, I think to myself "This will be the Tuesday that I take for me". I won't do laundry, pay bills, or go to the grocery store. I'll paint my toes. I'll take a nap. I'll read a book. However, every Tuesday that follows finds me at the grocery store, paying bills and doing laundry.

So, this morning on an early morning Target run for a tutu and ballet shoes (I'll explain later), I take a quick stroll through the costume section. I know full well that I won't get anything, because seriously, what kind of mother would I be if I got her a costume and didn't give her a chance to have an opinion (a smart one, I imagine). So I'm very quickly going through, just to see if anything screams at me, when I notice this very tired looking mother of two, debating with her son over what HIS costume will be.

"Lion or Bee, Johnny? Please pick one"
"NNOOOO. NOOOO LION - NO BEE"
"(sigh) Johnny, PLEASE, just pick one - or pick anything for that matter. We're running late."
"NNNOOO. HALLOWEEN IS DUMB. I HATE HALLOWEEN!"

I walk by, and pause for just a moment, to share a look of empathy and smile at the exhausted mother. Because that's what we do, right? It's our clubs secret handshake, right? The "our children are secretly trying to kill us" club.

She smiles back. We exchange a few words. She asks how old mine is (apparently making sure I'm really IN the club). Whole conversation is about a minute. Tops. I say "Good Luck" and start to push my cart away.

But she keeps talking.
And talking.

I'm almost into the kitchen appliance section, and she's STILL talking to me. But at this point she has to scream so I can hear her.

Don't you think that pushing my cart away was the hint that I was done. I did my mandatory "I feel your pain" thing...Shouldn't I be free to go now.

Not but 30 minutes later, with all my half price merchandise in hand, I decide to treat myself to a Starbucks before I hit the road.

I order and while waiting for my drink, I overhear the two women behind the counter discussing her chronic and debilitating sinus infections. Apparently she's on antibiotics almost all the time. Her doctors can't seem to help her, blah blah blah.

And then it happened.

I became the crazy lady that WOULD NOT SHUT UP.

I tell her about my husbands sinus problems. I tell her about the revolutionary Neti Pot. YES! I explain the inner workings of how to CLEAN OUT YOUR NOSE. I even tilted my head to demonstrate. I was mortified, but I couldn't seem to stop. In my head I'm thinking "Holy Shit Kerrie, You. Are. Talking. About. Snot." TO A STRANGER.

However, I can at least tell when people are trying to get away from me. Not to mention there was a line forming. So, I hauled ass out of there.

I think I have to find a new Target.