3. What was the last thing you bought?

On Saturday, Tyler and I set out with two objectives:  To get an Advent Calendar (or a Countdown to Christmas Calendar) as it was December 1st, and to do some grocery shopping at Marc’s.  I figured that at the most we would be back in an hour and a half.  Just two places to go, right?  One thing in one store and some groceries.

We head to Target because they have an Advent Calendar for two dollars and that works for me.  Tyler asks if he could look at the toys.  I figure why not, we have nothing better to do and maybe this can give me some more ideas.  Luckily there is one more scooter to use, I say luckily because they only have two.  Just two for their huge store.  I get onto the scooter and we zoom to the toy department, with Tyler complaining that he has to walk and I get to ride.

We look at all the toys, including some for girls, as Tyler knows I like toys too, the girlie ones.  Strangers ask me if I know where things are such as the Angry Birds…I think…Wooden Board game.  I try to help the woman find this one Angry Birds game in the hundreds of Angry Birds toys.  I am getting so frustrated I ask her nicely why she doesn’t go on the internet to get her impossible to find Angry Bird game that her nephew wants?

After being in the toy department for an hour I tell Tyler that we are picking up the Advent Calendar and leaving.  “I’m hungry!”, Tyler wails.  Since it has now been more than an hour after the huge lunch Tyler ate, I know he once again must fuel his furnace.

We zoom to the snack bar.  I am able to walk in the snack bar and so I park my scooter right outside the snack bar.  “I want an ice pop!”, Tyler wails.  Knowing that an ice pop won’t do anything to fill him up, I bargain with him that he can have anything at the snack bar, except the ice pop.  Cookies?  Ice cream?  Yogurt?  Tyler isn’t buying it.  He sinks to the ground and starts crying.  Please know that Tyler is not throwing a temper tantrum.  The pediatrician has told me because he is so tall, thin and active that I need to feed him as much as he wants.  At least five snacks a day.  If not, he gets chest pains, stomach, cramps, his legs give out on him and he becomes tearful and irrational.

Knowing we are going to have a major meltdown soon, I tell Tyler that he can get the ice pop but he must eat something else too.  I don’t even have the money for one snack, let alone two but one has got to do what one has got to do.  Tyler chooses one of those chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwiches, we get some tap water and sit down.

My eyes gaze over to my scooter and…it is gone!  Someone has stolen my sweet, sweet ride!  I feel as upset as if my car has been stolen.  I cannot believe it!  Of course, I know how desperate people are for scooters…but still I would never steal someone else’s!

While Tyler is eating he says, “Mommy, that girl is in my class, I know her!”

Of course he does.  Whether we have lived in New Jersey, Massachusetts or Ohio, Tyler always knows everyone.  No one ever comes over to me and says, “Emily, woo hoo, all right!  What are you doing at the county fair?”

The little girl is shyly looking over at Tyler. You know, like one of those, look, smile, blush and look away things?  I say, “Tyler, why don’t you go over to her and say hello?”

The little girl and her family sit next to us.  Tyler and the girl are sitting next to each other, the girl, blushing and embarrassed, and Tyler, oblivious.  He doesn’t need a girlfriend he has told me, even though most of his kindergarten class is hooked up.  I have told him he has made a wise decision and to concentrate on his kindergarten studies.

By now I have to pee like crazy.  I ask the little girl’s family if they would watch Tyler for a moment but Tyler says he’s got to go to the bathroom too.  Normally, I would assist him but I have to go so badly I just kind of wish him well and beat it into a stall.

As I am walking out to the sinks, I hear, “Mommy, I have bad news.”  I am not phased.  Tyler’s bad news can be that toilet paper has stuck to his shoe or that there is a bug crawling on the floor.

I look over at my son and his front pants look as though someone has dumped an entire bucket of water centering on his crotch!  “What happened, baby?  Didn’t make it on time?”  “No, mommy, I did.  I thought I was peeing in the toilet but it turns out I was peeing on my pants.” “Ah, yes, we’ve all done that before, do not worry.”  Meanwhile, my mind is going in so very many directions at once.

“Oh my God.  He needs clothes!  Wait, we are in Target, I can get him new pants and underwear.  Are you crazy?  You can’t afford that, just take him home, we are less than ten minutes from home!!”

“Okay, Tyler, let’s go home right now, we can change you and then we can come back and get the Advent Calendar and go grocery shopping.”
“Mommy, Anissa will see!  She can’t know that I peed in my pants!”

“Honey, she is in the snack bar, I will sneak you right out the door!”

Tyler is now moving up against a wall in the ladies’ bathroom, front side in.
“I’m not leaving the bathroom, everyone will know I peed my pants!!  Mommy PLEASE!”
“Holy crap, my choices are either scar my child for life by making him walk out the door of Target or buying him new pants and underwear!  I guess I am going for the new clothes.”

Only I cannot get Tyler out of the ladies’ room!  Who is going to watch him while I buy clothes for him?
I flag an Associate down who is so flummoxed he must call his manager.  The manager who looks about 18, says if I can just get Tyler into the men’s bathroom he will watch him until I can get the clothes.  I must trust that this teenager will not mistreat my son.
Tyler crawls along the wall from the ladies’ to the mens’.  “Little dude”, the manager says, “It’s cool, I am going to watch you while your mom gets you some clothes.”
Using a scooter right now is impossible I need to be…SUPER MOMMY!  I frantically run to the boy’s department.  Target for some strange reason has great prices on everything except when it comes to boys’ pants.  I finally find a pair of jeans on sale for 11 bucks.  Now, underwear.  I only need ONE but I must buy six. I go for The Justice League.  I head to the check-out and of course the lines are enormous.  I am getting more nervous with my son alone with that teenager.  I start asking people on the line, one buy one, if they would let me go ahead, my child has peed his pants, is hanging out in the men’s room, etc.  Ohioans are a friendly bunch and most let me go.  Only one says disgustedly to me, “Whatever!”

The pants and underwear cost me $22 and change.  Clothing tax is such a bitch!!

I get back to the men’s room and the teen and my son are having a fine time. I say, “Look what Mommy has got for you, Tyler!” and the manager says, “Sweet!” and I guess it is.

I struggle with dressing Tyler in the men’s room while the manager guards the door for us.  We walk out and head to the Christmas department.

Target is sold out of the Advent Calendar.

Photo Credit:  hitflix.com

The post Way to Get a Sweet Pair of Pants and Underwear! first appeared on Mama Sick.

You do get what you pay for.  The aisles are cramped, the lines are long and there appears to be some sort of anarchy at work there.  But mostly no one minds because their either love the bargains they are getting or cannot afford to shop anywhere else.

It is another rough month for our family, trying to make our money last until I get my disability award.  It has been difficult with both of our cats absolutely needing veterinary care and Tyler and I having to buy clothes and snow boots for a Cleveland winter.

Before shopping, I estimated the price of what was on my grocery list and thought I had enough money.  Marc’s only accepts cash or check, which doesn’t really matter as I only have cash.

As the cashier was ringing up my purchases, I started getting worried that I would not have enough.  I tried to get her to stop ringing but she didn’t.  We were next to one of those claw games where you can win an Angry Bird, and Tyler was begging me to let him try.  The total came up to $63.99.  I gave her sixty dollars.  It was time to turn to the change I had.  Would I have $3.99 in change?  I nervously started counting my quarters, Tyler continued to beg me to let him try the claw machine.  I came up with $3.00 in change, the other .99 looked doubtful.

From behind me I heard, “Vy?”

“Excuse me?,” I said.

“Vy don’t you do this at home?  That’s all I want to know, Vy you don’t do this before you come here?”

I turned full around to him.  I faced him.  I said, “Why don’t I do this at home?  Because I am homeless, bankrupt and uninsured, okay?  I am not counting my pennies for fun, I am counting them because these are all I have!”

I turned back to counting.  The cashier was helping me.

“I am sorry”, he said.

“That’s fine”, I said. “Perhaps next time you will think before you speak.”

I took away a Gatorade. (I somehow feel the need to justify my purchase to you.  Grant and I need Gatorade because our mouths are extremely dry from our medications and Gatorade seems to be the only thing that works for us.)

“Here, now I have enough money to pay.”  This seemed to confound the cashier and I had to explain to her why I now had enough.  She fumbled with taking the item off and coming up with the new total and I feared the manager would have to be called.  I was so angry, all I wanted to do was leave.  Meanwhile Tyler was still screaming for an Angry Bird and I can barely tell him “no” or “maybe another time”.   I didn’t have the time to be able to explain to him how these games are almost impossible to win and that they mostly waste your money.

The cashier finally got it right and then I heard, “Here, take this.”  I turned around and the man was holding out a $10 check.  I could not understand him fully but he said something like I am sorry, I hope this helps or this may not be too much, just a little something for you.

I looked at this sweaty, slimy bastard and I took the check and said thank you.

Nothing would have pleased me more to tell him where he could put his check but the truth is $10 means I can get Tyler the game he wants for Christmas.  I took it for him.

I am tired of constantly having to prostitute myself for my family.  I will keep doing it because I need to but it does take a toll on me.  Every time I swallow my pride or get treated poorly on a daily basis because I am uninsured, homeless and sick, part of me does die.

I know there is light at the end of the tunnel.  I received a fully favorable decision on my disability case in the middle of October but as it stands I have heard nothing back, and indeed was told not to even bother them for at least 30 to 45 days.  November 29th will be the 30 day mark and I will be calling.  Where is my money?  I have been waiting three years to be to be told that yes, the government now believes I am disabled and I continue to wait, a prisoner of their whim, as to when they decide to pay me.

“Lovely Ladies”, courtesy of ukstudentlife.com

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