A Simple Morning

     After two days at home, the plan was to get out and rub elbows with someone other than my loving husband, while also accomplishing some errands.

     Monday is water aerobics day at the YMCA, so on went my swimsuit and off I went for the 8:30 class. Afterwards, I could change and begin my errand accomplishing. Or so I thought.

          As soon as I spy the sign on the door – the one that’s been there for the last two weeks – I remember. The pool is closed, starting today, for cleaning or painting or submarine testing, who knows, for ten days.

          Fine. I march down to the locker room and put on my street clothes.

          What to do? It was only 8:35. 

          Well, one of the items on my list was a shower gift. Surely the mammoth Babies R Us (sorry, my keyboard refuses – and I don’t blame it – to type the necessary backward R) would open at 9:00. I pull up and the hours listed on the front of the building announce that the store won’t be open until 9:30. Okay, I just need to fill in the time until then.

          Next errand? I could go to the discount store down the road for cheapo greeting cards for the plethora of events that will be hitting us in September. My trip there is successful; I score not only greeting cards, but a small clock for $4, two pairs of gym socks for $2.99, and a small birthday gift for grandson #3. 

        At this hour I’m the only customer at the register, where midway through ringing me up, the clerk informs me that they no longer take 40% off of their greeting cards. Like everyone else, I have of course already spent hours I will never get back poring over the cards to choose ones that aren’t too sappy, and that fit each person and occasion. There is no way I am going to go somewhere else and do that all over again. I pay full price. 

          I park at Babies R Us. 9:25. Five minutes to go. No problem.

          A lady in a car next to me calls over that, regardless of the sign on their door, a clerk told her they wouldn’t be open until 10. Okaay. . .

          Our fruit stock is so depleted since the grandsons left that we’re courting scurvy.  The grocery store it is.

          Forty minutes later, I now have not only fruit, but eggs, butter, orange juice, coleslaw, and a special on ribs that I couldn’t resist. I tell myself that if I wrap everything up and muffle it with the blanket I keep in the car, everything should be fine since I just need two things at Babies etc. 

          I drive back over, where they have now magnanimously opened the doors. I find the remote control car for grandson #3 (in the Toys R Us side) and then print out the baby shower register for our niece. I decide at first that she must be much more acquisitive than I’d realized; the registry is the size of a small town’s phone book. 

It turns out that I’ve somehow printed out two copies. I sit and collate pages, trying not to think about the raw pork in the trunk of my car on this 83 degree morning. It turns out that the changing table I want is on-line only, so that means a trip to customer service where they order it for me. I’m now not thinking about the container of coleslaw. 

A changing table without a pad might be a bit too hard-core for a newborn, so back I go for a pad, and it also will need a cover, which I find two aisles over.

I return home, deciding that the library books I was going to return can just ride around with me for a few more days. 

The good news is that we just finished dinner, and there’ve been no reactions to the ribs or the coleslaw.

 So far.