Sunday, May 8, 2011

Why I am Never Going to the Dollar Store Again

The other day, I headed to the Dollar Store, for mascara and *classy* glue-on nails, as I do. (Since I have a really short attention span ((billionaire trait!!)) I can just put them on to feel fancy, and rip them off when they make me type zermoau3459x/xmoaer because they're too long.)

I had just picked up my mascara and was weighing the pros and cons of pink french nails vs. natural french nails, when Princess announced "Mom, I have to PEE!" As if she had waited until the very last minute before her wee bladder would explode. Which she had.

I grabbed her hand and ranted about, I mean, talked calmly about how this happens ALL the time, and can we please pee *before* school pick up? When we don't have to wander all over a sketchy Dollar Store looking for the bathroom? I found a guy who looked like he might work there, but then decided no, go for the uniform. Well, the guy got mildly offended and was all "Ma'am I'm the store manager. What can I do for you?" And I'm all "put on a uniform so this situation isn't so confusing, or at least a name tag, sir" but I said "Um. Do you have a potty?" and nodded at my kiddo doing The Dance.

"Sure! It's right back in the back, to the right!" said Captain Helpful.

The kids and I wandered through the back stock-room area, finally spotting a door with a "rest room" sign taped in place. The door was locked. "It's full!" came the shout from within.

We waited. We waited some more. Princess hopped around, until I sat her down on a nearby metal chair. We waited. I read a hand-written note that said "Do your best under stress!" with a smiley face. Hmmmm. Dedicated to hard work, that's the Dollar Store way.

Finally, the door opened and a lady employee lumbered out. The kids scooted past her, and immediately began complaining and holding their noses. I'd expected this. What I didn't expect was my kids to begin screaming. Not "ha ha funny, it stinks in here" screams, but "Oh my God there are rabid flesh-eating zombie beavers in here" screams.

Princess ran past me at warp speed. I didn't even see her go by, just felt the disturbed air molecules. "I don't have to pee anymore! I don't have to PEEEEE!" she was shouting from somewhere in aisle 3.

Casanova, meanwhile, was just standing in place, crying and yelling incoherently.


The lady behind me was busy yelling, "Oh kids! It's okay, it isn't REAL!"

Seriously. WHAT?

I cautiously entered the restroom and saw what had terrified the children. Behind the cracked old toilet lay a fake severed leg and foot. Oh. Of course. Did I mention it was a fake-blood covered fake severed leg and foot? No?

"Here, hand it to me!" said the lady.

I picked it up. Casanova was busy hiding behind the door.

"Look! It isn't real!" she was saying to him.

I yelled for Princess to come back. "It's a Halloween toy!" I shouted!

"No! It's REAL! It's a BODY!" she yelled back.

Finally, I got the Mom Voice out. "Get in here! It's just fine. It's a decoration!"

You know, because EVERYone decorates with dismembered body parts.

Finally, the kids crept out and tentatively viewed the plastic leg and fake bloody foot.

I thanked the lady and crammed my kids in the bathroom. Princess made it to the toilet and we hurriedly washed our hands. "Let's GO." said the resident mom.

The lady saw us again while we waited in line. It was a long line. She apologized again. "We're fine," I said. Princess nodded with her face in my leg. Casanova was busy explaining to half the line about the dead body behind the toilet.

The Store Manager was manning the only register. "Did you find the restroom okay?" he asked. "Oh yes, no problem," said I.

"Well I heard what happened and I'm REALLY sorry," he said. Then he turned to Princess. "Did you see that thing by the toilet? It wasn't real. I'm sorry honey!"

I'm sure the rest of the store was as confused and disturbed as I was. As we walked out the door, Princess announced, "I was so scared Mom, I thought there was a whole DEAD BODY stuffed back there with just the leg sticking OUT!"

"No, honey, no one is stuffed in the potty at the Dollar Store."

It took about four hours for them to stop asking me why anyone would do that, and I couldn't get them to go upstairs or anywhere else really, without me, for the rest of the day. They were afraid that "that dead leg" would be there.

Seriously, I mean really, does this happen to anyone else? No.

And with that, it's Mother's Day, so happy day to me, I'm getting more coffee. If you're a mom, go hide in the closet with your bourbon (what have you) and if you're a dad, based on my empirical evidence, EVERY day is your day.

Comments, questions, found any body parts lately?