Babies and Beer, The Return

I admit it, I shopped at Wal-Mart. Yes, I've read the book, I've theorized the union issues, I've traversed the globe for alternative bargain options. But, yesterday I shopped at Wal-Mart and liked it. Did you know that you can buy Fat Tire beer for $7 a six pack there? I also bought an entire cart load of completely out of season plants for less than twenty dollars! Because the main basket of my cart was already filled with the blooming garden from last fall, I made my purchases and loaded the beer on that bottom shelf of my cart. Who invented those stupid things? Where are the sides to keep all your shit from rolling off? Well, I never asked that question myself until yesterday. Let me paint the scene for you: It was a dark and rainy afternoon. The baby's car seat was "precariously balanced" atop the cart (once, again, when will I learn?). Plants on top, beer on bottom. We rolled out the double doors and onto the course blacktop, Ana jiggling along in her seat when I heard the first beer bottle hit the ground. The cap had already blown before I could rescue it from its kamikaze mission with the curb. One... bottle of beer on the floor. I saw the second one roll off that F%$&*!ing bottom shelf in time to watch it bounce off the cart wheel (yep, and that's what it did next, a cart wheel into a hundred pieces). Damn it. What is it with beer and babies lately?

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