So that is the back story. Yesterday, I was doing a rinse and noticed, to my dismay, significant congestion in my sinuses because there wasn't an equal amount of rinse draining out the other side. For those contemplating a sinus rinse, just stop reading now, because what is yet to come will either gross you out or give you nightmares.
Anyway, I could tell it wasn't draining fully. If I'd been paying attention, I would've noticed the "Bridge Out Ahead" sign and just cancelled all events and stayed home for the day, but motherhood has a way of distracting you from saving face, literally. Somebody probably barfed up a crayon on their sister at that point, it distracted me from the malfunctioning sinuses, and I went forward with life. If I had only known what was to come I would've just given up and called it a day. As Kenny Rogers says, 'Know when to walk away...know when to run.'
Fast forward to SEVERAL HOURS LATER. I was standing in the produce section of Kroger picking out tomatoes and mushrooms. Let's pause for a moment to point out where I wasn't. I wasn't at a Farmer's Market. For four reasons:
1. Obviously I am a pathetic mother who doesn't care about the quality of produce I feed my family (yeah, like my kids are going to eat mushrooms, anyway. AS IF.) or stimulating economic growth among my local farming and gardening people who are passionate enough to get up at 5 on a Saturday morning to sell yellow squash and clementines. Look, my hat's off to them and everything, but if I'm up at 5 on a Saturday, it's because of my own Clementine, and not because I'm out shopping.
2. Yesterday was Monday, so there wasn't even a Farmer's Market available to make me feel guilty for not choosing.
3. Grocery shopping in the middle of the street with my kids doesn't exactly sound like a situation where somebody doesn't get run over by a car.
4. The Farmer's Market does not provide carts the size of fifteen passenger vans with zero turning radius and squeaky wheels and a little plastic car stuck on the front covered with more E. coli than Chuck E. Cheese's ballpit. And if I'm doing grocery shopping, I want that cart for its aisle-navigating and child-containing prowess. (And the E. coli.)
Back to Kroger, now that it's clear why I was there. I've got the giant cart, the kids contained, and a box of mushrooms in hand. I glanced at my list to see what was next. The list had fallen sideways, so I tipped my head to read it accordingly. A fatal mistake.
The five quarts of saline rinse my sinuses had locked inside now were released. The time had come to drain it out, and drain it did. I panicked. I had nothing to plug my nostril with. This was no mild, unnoticeable drip. The levees had broken. Scout was staring at me in horror. I almost grabbed her shirt to start blotting up my mess with, but there was so much of it that she would've been soaked. So I did the only reasonable thing. I tilted my head back, and pushed my fifteen passenger cart with the squeaky wheel wildly as I ran as fast as I could to the bathroom. Half Pint was delighted because she suddenly decided she had to pee. I yanked her out of the cart and into a stall, grabbing wads of toilet paper to stop the dam. She immediately started scolding me. "Mom, that's the toilet paper for my buns, not for you!" At which point I answered like a calm, mature adult and said, "Hey let's get one thing straight, bubble eyes. We are in here FOR ME SO I WILL USE ALL THE TOILET PAPER I WANT."
Eventually the flow of saline stopped and I was able to finish my grocery shopping, but not without taking thirty times as long as necessary because the whole event was so traumatizing I couldn't remember what aisle anything was in and had to keep doubling back. And then I woke up this morning and realized all the groceries WERE STILL IN THE CAR. I completely forgot to unload them. Thankfully, no dairy. Next time my sinuses decide on a saline coup, I'm just staying home.
|groceries, a water bottle, camp chairs, and a single shoe.|
all the necessities for the back of our van, apparently