I was talking late one night not so long ago with my sister-in-law, Doris. She lives in Arkansas. After a bit of catching up we began to gab about how we arrange things in our shopping carts, but it was all in reference to people. How we got on this topic only the Creator knows. We sometimes have this sort of kooky humor about things. Next we began to rattle on about where people would place them themselves in their buggies regarding their self-importance.
For our amusement we bagan to imagine ourselves on a shopping spree at the newest Market Street and organizing people in our carts. Who or what goes where and why does it go there? I tend to place my very expensive items or freshly baked bread or organic, farm fresh, all natural eggs in a safe place in the cart. Then the toilet paper and the toilet bowl cleaner usually go on the bottom shelf along with the dog food or charcoal. So who gets to be in the best place in my buggy and who goes on the bottom? You can see it can't you?
Next we began to talk about where we would be placed in another person's cart. I then had this image of myself loaded into the bottom of the grocery cart with Doris pushing, and off we went to shop.......... As we were discussing how to get me onto the bottom of the cart I was sitting on the floor measuring myself and waving my arms around trying to get Doris to see that I was not going to fit. In the process, I accidentally smacked a small wiry older lady in the shin as she was passing by on her way to shop. She was not amused and totally snubbed us with a fiesty sparkle in her eye. She was indignant that I had touched her. I tried to apologize, but she totally ignored me. I stuffed myself into the bottom of the cart trying my best to contain my arms and legs under the buggy in a dignified manner as we began to stroll down the cleaning products aisle. Doris then got this wild look in her eye as she spyed the little lady not too far behind us checking out a fly swatter. She was not hard to miss dressed in tennis shoes, a 50's dated floral dress, and a very fancy hat on her head. She also carried a BIG purse hanging from the crook of her arm. She pushed up very close to us and tried to pass, but Doris was not having any of that. Miss BIG PURSE waited till we were busy talking and then flew by. I was trying to tell to Doris to buy the all natural detergent. Doris told me to get back under the cart and be quiet. I obeyed like a good girl. Doris was determined to stay in front of her. Doris passed her, turned around, grinned wildly and starting running down the aisle. I had raised the side of her dress with a knee that was protruding from under the cart as we passed her. The race was on. She sped around the corner, and my arms flew out and I knocked down all the paper towels that were stacked on the end cap. The fiery old gal was not deterred one bit. She barrelled through the paper towels and plowed into the back of Doris' heels. Now Doris was hot, and I was trying to get off this cart bound for disaster. "No way are you getting off," Doris yelled. Away she went. My head jerked back, and it was now hanging off the back, my feet sticking straight out like a battering ram and my hands gripping on to the sides of the basket for dear life as Doris dashed down the water aisle. My body parts were like bulldozers rakeing most everything off the bottom two shelves. No, she couldn't just run straight down the aisle; she was weaving, rocking and rolling. Miss Fancy pants was right behind her. Doris hung a right, then right again, and flew around the next corner. I had my eyes squeezed so tight, so afraid of what I might see.... the baking goods aisle, that is where she turned. I managed to obliterate all the goods on the bottom two rows with my hands and feet.... flour, corn meal, and sugar filled the air.... by now the store manager was in on the chase of two crazy women and one innocent buggy rider. Doris was on fire howling and laughing... having the time of her life. The Miss BIG purse was still in pursuit... no stopping her either. She was covered in flour, water and cooking oil from the last turn. I was gagging and chocking from the cloud of baking goods falling to the floor. I was praying, "ohhh dear God save me from this and I will be a good old woman the rest of my life!"
I woke up... or tried to wake up. I was tangled up in my electric blanket, the cell phone cord, and had the lamp from my side table on top of me. Oh thank you sweet Jesus; it was only a dream. I will never, ever go shopping with Doris, and if I see a litle old lady with a BIG purse at Wal Mart I WILL RUN, RUN, RUN IN THE OTHER DIRECTION!!
