Wal-Mart Fall Apart

Wal-Mart is not my favorite place. This would seem confusing if you knew how much time I spent there. It's pathetic, really. But, it's close to my house and it's cheap- time and money, two things I have precious little of. So, I go. And, I go. I have a firm policy that I do not take more than two kids with me to the store. (My preference is to go without kids and pretend that I don't have any. Kind of hard to do when you're filling a couple of carts with groceries.) Isn't it funny how almost every time you go to Wal-Mart, you see a fit? I always look with pity on the mother who is dealing with a tantrum in the store. I've been there, sure, but, now, I have teenagers and though they aren't good for much, they are handy when you want to leave the little ones home while you slum it at Wal-Mart. I'm very careful not to be snide or look down my nose at the parent who can't control their child. I just feel very sorry for them and move on.
Usually, I just take my youngest with me, poor thing goes everywhere with me to the point that he sort of thinks he's a girl. The others are in school all day, so it's inevitable that he's going to run errands with me. He's been pretty good, but the whole independence monster has reared his head and his cooperating has gone down the toilet. (Which he doesn't want to use, but that's a whole other story.) I stand in the aisle and wait, and wait, and wait for him to look at whatever it is he's interested in. Don't get me started on those stupid greeting cards that play songs and sounds, he loves them! He's pretty good about me not buying everything he sees. He'll pick something up that he's especially attatched to, like Dora or Kai-lan (told you he thinks he's a girl) and I'll tell him, "You can hold it, but I'm not buying it." By the time we get to the register, he's ready to give it up and put it on a random shelf. I'm sure the Wal-Mart employees love me. But, I feel like I'm very calm and patient when I'm there.
Today, we were getting ready to leave the dreaded store. I was using the self-check, and he got upset because, ok, honestly I don't even know what upset him. Maybe it was because the scanner was too high for him to reach, maybe because he had to get Spongebob soup instead of Dora soup. I don't know. But, suddenly, he did it. He had a full-on-white-trash-Wal-mart-meltdown. I would've taken a picture of him as he sprawled on the filthy floor, but I was afraid the employees would call DCFS. Instead, I picked him up and carried him, kicking and screaming, to the car. Why, oh, why did I show him how to unbuckle his seat belt?? I'd belt him in, close the door and he'd undo it. This went on a few times till I pushed the belt under his seat. So much for my calm demeanor. I was feeling like a really good mom. Nothing like a dose of reality to bring you back to earth. We got home and he was fine. Thanks for saving it for an audience, kiddo.