He sent me to Walgreen's to buy milk and bread and a flavor of Tylenol that maybe Evan won't barf up on the couch. I gladly went. It was rainy and cool and I wanted to lay on the pavement and smell that wet asphalt smell til I died. I don't know why I love that smell so much.
I had me a time at Walgreen's. The fluorescent lighting was cheerful. I took my sweet time with my undersized shopping cart. I shuffled down each aisle in my sweatpants and contemplated. I knew it was a perfect waste of money, but I couldn't resist picking up a rag mag spewing the sordid details of Justin Bieber - baby daddy.
I tried to think of situations in which turquoise nail polish would work in my life.
I walked by the enemas and was grateful I didn't need one.
I gasped at the audacity of charging five dollars for a pint of Ben and Jerry's.
I lingered in the baby lotions and binkies and felt a tiny pinch in my heart to have another baby.
I smiled down the Christmas aisle and pushed all of the buttons on the annoying singing do-hickeys. My favorite was Miss piggy in a cheap and easy leopard dress singing "Santa Baby".
I scowled at the paperback shelf and wondered how on earth the airbrushed abs and heaving bosom books make the NY times best seller list every darn week? Who reads those?! Gross.
On the way out, there was an Asian man impatiently accosting an arguing couple at the Red Box. He was tired of waiting and wanted the couple to check if the machine had cartoos. Not cartoons, cartoos. The couple had no idea what he was talking about. I'm a mom. I know what he was talking about. He was trying to say Cars 2.
I should have cleared up the matter. But I didn't.
It was just one of those days.