In Heaven There Is No Walmart

I'm going to Austin to propose new punishment for shoplifters. Anyone caught shoplifting will be sentenced to one day shopping at Walmart with an 18 month old and a 3 year old. They must use a shopping cart with a broken seat belt, it must pull to the right and must have sticky stuff on the handle bar. Also, they must be given a list with no fewer than 50 items, including items from EVERY department in the store. They must go on a Monday, around 10:00am--right when all the slow moving elderly are out and about and other mothers with screaming children are frantically trying to get their shopping done as well. We got back from a very leisurely trip to my parents yesterday. They kids behaved well and the car trip was without incident. Last night, they were tired and cranky, but were overall pretty good. Then, they released their wrath on me this morning. La la la la la, everything was going great, they got dressed and put their shoes on without fighting and promptly got in the car and buckled up. They even sang a lovely round of "If You're Happy And You Know It" on the way. I stopped at Sonic to get an orange Creamslush before going to Walmart. Then, as soon as we walk into the doors, *POOF!* all the loveliness disappears. Maggie throws tantrum #1 because she does not want to sit in the cart. Then, she throws tantrum #2 because she does not want to share the cream slush with Macie. The elderly in their motorized carts hog the aisles and give me disapproving looks regarding Maggie's shrieks. Of course Macie has to go to the potty (which is all the way over on the other side of the store) so we make a mad dash over there. The bathrooms are filthy and they both commence to touch every square inch of filthiness. Back to our shopping, they have decided to share the cream slush, but now it's become a game. Maggie holds the cup while Macie takes a sip, then Maggie pulls the cup away and they die laughing. Cute, huh? Yeah, until the straw goes flying out of Macie's mouth, full of cream slush and coats a bunch of cans of soup, the floor, and my feet. I wipe what I can up with baby wipes and find a trash can to throw the entire thing away. Cue tantrum #3. I steer over to an empty aisle and commence to chew Maggie out. She seems to get the message and we go over to the other side of the store to get vitamins. In the vitamin aisle, there are two college-aged girls stocking vitamins and herbs. I was trying to find the toddler Flinstones vitamins, but I couldn't see very well, because they kept stepping in front of me to stock vitamins. I'm looking, looking, looking, for the stupid vitamins but I just can't find them. Here is the conversation going on between the oh so helpful employees: "Did you watch the Miss USA pageant the other night? Yeah, it was so good! My boyfriend was like, totally wanting Miss Alabama to win, but like, I was wanting Miss Texas to win, but she didn't. Was she the one with like the black hair? I don't remember they all looked the same to me. Oh my gawd, did you see that one dress? She like looked so fat in it, I couldn't believe she wore it. Like, why don't they look in a mirror before they go out there? Could she like, not see how she looked? Miss Texas never wins. What's up with that? Yeah." I'm just staring at them, in disbelief that they continue to act like i'm not there. Then, they both turn and look at me and ask if they can help me in a tone that was very "you're in the way". I tell them i'm looking for the toddler flintstone vitamins and they just look at me. THE FLINTSTONE VITAMINS THAT ARE FOR TODDLERS, NOT BIG KIDS. I CAN'T FIND THEM. Then they say, without actually looking at the shelf, "we don't carry anything like that". I say, well, actually you do because i've been buying them here for the past year and a half, am I just overlooking them? Meanwhile, Maggie is pulling the South Beach Diet granola bars off the shelf. Then, one of them says in an i've-been-smoking-weed voice, "Wow, look at all the Aloe Vera!" Never mind. We leave to go get soap and go back later, finding the vitamins after all. I then remember that I forgot the chocolate milk. We trek across the store once more, Macie begging to open the goldfish crackers and me trying to hold Maggie down in the seat so she won't take the leap of death. Plus, I can hardly walk because my feet are sticky from the slush incident. We get the milk, then make our way to the check out. All the lines are 3 or 4 people deep, so I just go to the self checkout. Macie commences to rearrange all the candy and Maggie commences to throw tantrum #4 because she wants all the candy. I'm scanning as fast as I can, ignoring the pleas for candy. Enter not so helpful employee #3. "Awww, can't they just have one? They're kids, they love candy. Awwww, will your mama not give you any candy? Poor things." yada yada yada. I smile politely thinking "will you get the heck out of here? You're making it worse!" I tell Macie to come over by me and hold onto the cart. I tell Maggie to hush. Then, I get the disapproving look by employee #3 and she saunters off to go call child protective services because I won't give my kids the stinkin' candy. Yeah, may I have a moment of your time, Mr. Perry? I have some ingenious legislature to discuss with you.