Case of the Stolen Grocery Cart

Do you ever just ask yourself, “What the hell is wrong with people?” I ask myself that question constantly. What the hell IS wrong with people? People! Recently I went grocery shopping while my daughter was being watched by my once a week for three hours nanny. That’s right. I have a nanny every Wednesday from 2-5 pm. And I got her just so I could say, “I have a nanny.” Well that’s not really the reason we got her, but I still get to say it anyway.

So of course now that my kid is out of my hair I do what any mother with a limited amount of time does. I went grocery shopping. I don’t think people who aren’t parents understand just how important grocery shopping ALONE is to us mommies. Sometimes it’s the only time we have a chance to get away from our families. It’s not that we don’t love them, but do we really have to like them all the time? I don’t think so.

I can’t tell you how much I enjoy wheeling my little germ-infested cart up one aisle and down the next without my wee one begging me for toys she’ll only insist I buy, so she can throw them in her closet and never play with them again. Goodwill totally scores when my kid is busy watching TV because I sneak bag after bag of crap into my car when she’s not looking and drop it off to kids who will actually play with the toys instead of collect them. There is a very good chance you will see my daughter on the show Hoarders. She will be the one clinging to her Barbies for dear life even though the dog has so severely disfigured them that CPS stops by my house once a week just to check on Skipper.


Creepy Barbie Doll Photo


So off to the grocery store I went. Now we have possibly one of the best grocery stores I have even seen in in my life here in Houston. It’s a Super H.E.B. I didn’t even know what an H.E.B. was until I moved here. But Super H.E.B.? It’s like I’ve died and gone to grocery store heaven. They have everything you could possibly want. One day I was perusing the juice isle and a little girl approached me and held open a cigar box and asked me if I wanted to buy a necklace! I couldn’t believe it; they even had midgets selling jewelry! It doesn’t get any better than that. And, if she had only waited until I hit the wine section and loaded up on all the free samples of wine, I just may have bought a couple of her black market necklaces. 

There I was taking my sweet time looking at the homemade soaps, buying my daughter her yogurt with mini M&M’s, and stocking up on vodka mineral water. ‘Cause I just love my mineral water.

About an hour later, cart full, I slowly made my way to one of the 20 or so checkout stands. I stood patiently in line because I could. You see I didn’t have to get home for at least another 45 minutes. Life was really really good. And to make my wait all the more enjoyable, the checkout lines have magazine racks filled with travel magazines. I just love the travel magazines. I love to look through them and torture myself with trips we don’t have the time or money to take. But a girl has got to have a dream.

I was next up in line and had my back turned from my cart for maybe two minutes tops. I grabbed two of the travel magazines and when I got home, I planned to see what the e-Bay going rate was for footless Barbies. Hey. Gotta’ make it to the Galapagos Islands somehow. With my head full of dreams of seeing the Galapagos Islands’ famous domesticated goats, I turned around to put the magazines into my cart….and my cart was gone. BUT, who ever took my cart was kind enough to leave me their cart, full of two cases of diet coke. Which is even crueler than just stealing my cart in the first place. Because I have a little anxiety problem and am not allowed to have caffeine. What in the hell? Someone stole my cart! Where is my fucking cart! Second by second I could feel the rage building up inside me. 

Perhaps I should mention for those of you who don’t already know, that my daughter has some sensory issues, and to get her to eat or try anything new is nothing short of a miracle. So the fact that we were able to get her to eat the yogurt with the mini M&M’s was practically cause for us to plan a trip in celebration. Domesticated goats! SCORE! But as it happened, the last two packs of M&M yogurt were in my now abducted grocery cart. 

“Ma’am, are you ready to check out?” The post-pubescent boy at the check out stand asked me.

“Wha…?” I answered in a daze. 

“Are you ready to check out?”

“This isn’t my cart,” I told him. Wait a second!

“THIS ISN’T MY CART!” Now you would think that people might be sympathetic to the fact that you had just spent an hour shopping in their store only to have your cart stolen. But that was not the case. They looked at me like I was a crazy person who had just wandered in off the street to get away from my family. Okay, well maybe that last part was true. But my Super H.E.B. was all of a sudden not so super. Why? Because I could tell by the way they looked at me they either didn’t believe me, or they didn’t care.

I looked all over the place and even enlisted the help of one of the baggers. But we never found my cart. I was so mad at this point I reached into my messenger bag that I was smart enough to keep on my body and not in the cart like I usually do, and pulled out my small bottle of Xanax I keep on me in case of emergencies. And this was an emergency! I was going to kill someone. I now had exactly 30 minutes to shop all over again, and no stopping to smell the soaps this time. My nanny was leaving at 5 pm and my ass needed to be home.

As I bolted through the store like a woman on fire, I threw the essentials into the cart and ran over women, men, and midgets selling jewelry. I had no time for shenanigans this time around. And that’s when I hit the yogurt section, praying that it had been restocked. None. Zero. Zip. I even asked a man to check in the back of the store for me. Nothing.

I made it home on time. And the first question my sweet, picky-eater child asked me was, “Mommy, did you get me yogurt with M&M’s?”

“No baby. Not this time.” I’m still kind of mad about the whole cart thing. But the Xanax helped. A bit. I also Google-search “Woman stolen grocery cart,” or “H.E.B. stolen cart prank,” and “Assholes stealing MILF’s grocery cart” all the time. But I have yet to find myself on YouTube with some young punks snickering about the expression on my face once I realized my cart was gone. And I’m not going to describe what I DO find with the MILF searches. But I keep looking. And once I find those little bastards I have 50,000 volts and a hot pink Taser with their names on it. And mommy is coming for a little payback.  Like I said, the hell is wrong with people?

© Two too smart, smartass mommies 2011