Sleep has still not been plentiful lately, so I decided to put in a curbside pickup grocery order, rather than attempting the store with an overtired baby.
As I was attempting to cobble together a list of what I needed last night, I remembered a few other personal items I needed. I figured that I’d try and get them with my order to save me a trip inside.
When I got to the store, I called the pickup number and told them which space I was in. As I sat and waited, the other vehicles in the lineup all got their orders and drove off. Finally my van was the only on left in the pickup zone.
W started fussing in his chair, so I got out and walked around to his side of the van to talk to him. As soon as I opened the door I could smell the problem: blow out.
I looked around, and since there was no one else there and my order was nowhere in sight, I decided to change him on the front seat. When I lifted him out, there was poop *everywhere*.
Go big or go home, right?
As I’m wrestling with my large, poop covered and now naked child on the front seat–who tries to roll over at EVERY opportunity– I hear the rumbling of a cart. My order was coming.
A kid came sauntering out the door pushing the trolley with my many groceries, and half stops when he sees what I’m doing.
Specifically, attempting to sponge bath a poop covered naked baby with baby wipes on my front seat. He recoiled a little, obviously uncomfortable with how personal this grocery drop off just became.
Him: “Uh, are you, uh, Heidi?”
Me: “Yup! One second, I’m almost done. You can go ahead and put the groceries in the back if you’d like.”
Pleased to have a task that took him out of the line of sight of W’s poop, he began unloading the bags. As he came to one box he stopped.
Him: “Did you get an email about any substitutions?”
Me: “Oh! Yes, I did. Thanks for reminding me. I had my hands full for a moment.”
I transferred W back into his seat, now smiling and poop free. As I began to bathe myself in hand sanitizer, I said,
Me: “Can I please see the substitution so I can see if it will work? I can’t remember what was omitted from the order and what was changed.”
Him: “Yeah, sure. Let me find the bag.”
As he rummaged through the boxes, I remembered what it was they had substituted. He discovered what it was at the same moment.
Underwear. In a state of exhaustion the night before, I had just clicked on a package of ladies underwear that I could wear to workout. At that point I didn’t care about where they were from, I just needed something.
So I ordered it. With my groceries. That this obviously horrified young man was now shoving back into the bag he had just pulled it from. Gingerly holding the bag like it contained a toxic substance, he held it out to me, as far away from his body as he could possibly get.
Apparently he wasn’t all that interested in seeing what kind of underwear the Poop Lady wore. To his utter dismay, I didn’t like the substitution the store chose and had to decline. As I handed the bag back to him, he carefully took it with two fingers before tossing it back into his bin, hoping to never see it again.
For some reason, he loaded everything else in a big rush after that. I looked back and saw him heave six bags all at once into the van before he hurriedly closed the door and called out “That’severythinghaveagreatdayokaybye”. His mission completed, he then sped walked back into the store.
W and I drove away, pooped after our big outing. Sadly, only one of us got a fresh bum out of the experience.