I Am So Special! A True Tale That Will Make You Feel Good About Yourself

Today, I made a few extra special choices. Long story short, I had to be rescued from the middle of a Walmart parking lot.

Against the laws of nature, we have had a month of spring already. Cousin Rachel said it best: "Punxatawney Phil sits on a throne of lies." Last year's summer heat turned me into a sofa-loving, L-7 weenie. This early spring stuff is bringing up those memories of telling my children no when they wanted to play outside, because I plain couldn't tolerate it. They've been asking for weeks. 

I figured out the problems. Being outside just isn't restful...between having to be upright in a chair or being affectionately mauled by my 67-pound "dogdaughter" if I lie on a blanket. And I can't holler to call my peeps in anymore. 

But now our landscaping is better. Maybe some shade, a drink, a recliner. and our trusty school bell will make things easier. 

By the way, I just want a recliner everywhere I go; is that too much to ask? I want one at church the most. Three hours of supporting my head and neck on my own--! I need major recovery time after that. Day of rest, indeed!

So when I went to the store to pick up the perfect, cheap, reclined chairs on the way home from the doctor's office instead of going home to rest (my first of many mistakes), I thought it was a worthy cause. My kids can play, my head can rest, and I can put my feet up on a bucket or something. I bought two chairs, ba-BAM! Strategy: I'll put a chair at my two best kid-watching spots so I won't have to haul anything around.

Ho ho ho, the cleverness of me!

Feeling like my body was made of jelly and limping a little with fatigue and pain, I made my way to the car, heroic, foolhardy, and victorious. 

I underestimated the size of the chairs and overestimated the size of my car. By a bunch. Those dang chairs wouldn't fit, no way, no how. I tried the backseat, but they wouldn't fit through the door. I hefted my 45-pound wheelchair from the trunk and put it halfway into the back seat before I realized I couldn't get it to fit, and the lawn chairs wouldn't fit in the trunk anyway. 

Dang dang dang dang dang! I used all my muscles and tried everything, losing count of all the mistakes I had made by thinking this would work. 

Admitting defeat, I huffed, plunked down into the stacked chairs, and called for backup.

My sweetheart answered. 

"Hi sweets."

"Hhhhhhhhhiiii."

"Everything ok?"

"Nnnnoo."

"Did you run out of gas?" (PS we had just figured out that my empty light was on. Because I'm uber responsible like that.) 

"Not yet. But I AM in need of rescuing."

He said I didn't need to return the chairs to the store and that he could leave to rescue me in three minutes. My gut was doing special things, but I didn't tell him that. 

Have you ever sat in the middle of a Walmart parking lot on a stack of two lawn chairs? It's kind of fascinating. I felt like a weirdie though. To pass time, I made a list of observations so passers-by wouldn't think I was a people-watching creeper who hides between cars in parking lots. I'm sure that's a real thing in parking lots across America, but I don't want that kind of recognition. 

If you like, you can browse my list. 

Observations:

Gears grinding

Parking stalls being taken within three seconds

Baby talk en espanol

Chit chat about upcoming get together

People not noticing me, like I'm a statue (stealthy, am I!)

Er, people noticing me

Indecisive choosing of parking spots

An engine idling behind me

White dog in the window beside me just popped up--hello!

Blaring radio when car turns on, then turned off

"I'm gonna soak up the sun" playing behind me somewhere--how appropriate

New chairs. New dang chairs that don't fit in my dang car. 

How I feel:

Hot

Head reclined and resting

Feeling foolish, yet comical

Need rescuing

Sun bleaching hair in March?! Me likey. 

Waiting

Sitting between stalls

Keep face directed at phone, even through my closed eyes are behind sunglasses

Tired 

Thinking "what have I done?"

I need to use the bathroom

Where is my husband?

Whiffs of exhaust--*pleh-heh-heh-heh* EW

Then I went to the app where my husband and I stalk each other's locations, and it looked like he hadn't left. I called him and the line was busy. I waited. Then I called again. Seventeen whole minutes had passed. The line was busy, but then he answered. 

"Hi."

"Hi! I can't track you!"

"I've been on the phone. Everyone is calling me at once."

"Where are you?"

"I'm three minutes away."

"OH thank goodness. My BOWELS are SCREAMING!!!!!"

And they were!! Gaa!

But he rescued me.  I told him to tell everyone his wife is an idiot, but he laughed and said NO. 

Here's what I looked like when he rescued me with his Pilot. Me and my bowels thanked him and dashed away (who cares about the empty light?). 

It wasn't without great effort, but I now have two high-backed lawn chairs so I can watch my kids when they beg to play outside this summer. That is, if I don't recede back into the couch. That twenty minutes in the sunshine sapped me. *Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh* I'm done with this post.