If you live in or have visited the Southeastern United States, chances are you have shopped or know someone who shops at Publix . . . my favorite grocery chain and I'm not just saying that because it provides two of the 9TS's kids their livelihood. Every Sunday morning, there I am, pushing my cart past the Boar's Head meats, down among the stewed tomatoes and artichoke hearts, through the Wheaties and Rice Crispies, amidst the cat food tins and down along the produce . . . pinching, plucking, pondering. That be me. I'm not sure what it was that set me to thinking this morning about some of my more illustrious escapades in those aisles but one by one they popped out of the recesses of my mad cow infested brain . . .
Like the time I was minding my own business trying to decide on which block of cheese I wanted when this odd little woman sauntered up along side me . . . in my face close . . . looked me right in the eye and yelled: SHUT UP! and then skittered away. Huh?
Or the time Katie was itty bitty brand new and in a Snugli. Another little old lady came up, peered into my sling and started with the usual . . . oh how cute . . . how old is she? etc., etc. I didn't mind her following me down the first two aisles but after that it got a little tiresome and when she turned around for a second, I was three aisles away hiding between the Kleenex and the toilet paper, happy to be rid of her. I know that is unkind. I know she was just elderly and lonesome and some day I will be beleaguering new parents just to keep the memory of my young motherhood alive. But honestly, she was getting creepy. All went well as I loaded my goodies, one by one, onto the conveyor belt and, this being a small town, the girls on the register had seen me go from skinny minnie to bloated cow over the last nine months, as had the bag boys. So when the old lady reappeared out of nowhere, and asked politely for HER baby back, more than just my head shot up. We all stared at her. Again she asked, nay demanded, her baby. And again, yet louder, until she was shrieking and I was freaking out. A phalanx of Publix employees surrounded Katie and I and escorted us safely out to my car while the poor woman screamed in fear for the loss of her child. I was shaken to the core. I can only imagine the pain she was in.
And then the time I escaped to Publix sans Katie . . . she being age 3-ish. As I walked in one entrance, a woman holding MY daughter's hand walked in the other. I had to do a double take to realize that although her little blond haired waif was wearing an identical dress to one Katie owned and the identical pair of shoes . . . she was indeed not my child. But she looked so much like a combination of Katie and a reflection of myself at that age, I stood rooted and gawking. Soon the other mom was glaring back. I couldn't blame her. I blathered out the reason for my ill mannered behavior and we started chatting. Turned out her daughter was born at the same hospital and amazingly just one day prior to Katie. We had been in the hospital at the same time. What a remarkable coincidence. After a bit, we parted ways. Now if you know me, you know my odd little brain has a tendency to run its own rather convoluted thought processes. Here was this child who looked more like me than my own kidlet . . . who was born in the same hospital . . . just one day prior . . . and into my brain were seeping thoughts of hospital mistakes and switched babes. ACK. I sped home, hugged my munchkin, called a friend who knew I was a freak and finally calmed down. To this day I am ever so happy when people say they see the resemblance between the Bean and I.
OK, remind me again why I like this store?!?!?
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1 comment:
Geez Jeanne, that is really creepy! Maybe you had twins and didn't know? :) I really love your story-telling, I hope that some day you will print your pages out and bind them into a book. They are just wonderful. When I grow up I want to be able to write like you!
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