I am so glad our calenders remind us to be thankful at least once a year. Life seems to go by at such a fast pace, that I forget about the simple things that make me and my family happy. I forget to look at my children when their speaking to me instead of straight through them trying to finish my own interrupted thought and still comprehend what they are talking to me about. I am thankful they are talking to me.
I'm thankful for the permission to slow down and bake that is granted to me when spots appear on my bananas, like they have today. I am thankful that Eleni calls it "nama bread", and really don't look forward to her pronouncing it correctly. I am thankful for the new kitchen I have to bake it in.
This morning I ran into what should have been a really simple situation and it turned out to be sooo complicated and so ridiculous. I am not a fan of writing about negative stuff, but I can't let this go. I am not a Wal-mart shopper, I just don't like getting tires, bras, and cream cheese in the same place. It just doesn't seem right. More power to you if it works out for you. I'll try to keep this short.
I was there to pick up my contacts which I reluctantly ordered through their vision center, only because my friend is the optometrist that has an office in the Wal-mart. Well, I paid for them last week, got a call they were in, went today to pick them up but they wouldn't give them to me. There apparently has to be a "licensed optician" on hand to dispense them to you. My contacts were there, they were paid for, I was there, they are my contacts, but no one would hand them to me. And the "licensed optician" was not due in for another 4 hours.
Let's just leave that situation like that. Annoying, yes. But fine. Whatever. As I was trying to understand these people, Eleni was yanking on my hand and whining to go see this obnoxious Santa display. Then when I was wrapping up with the non-licensed people and making note of the random and very inconvenient hours of the licensed people, Eleni finally broke free and ran over towards the display. Looking back to be sure that I was following her or not too mad at her, she failed to see a big plastic trash can in her path. She turned just in time in her little jog to smash right into it, knocking it over along with about six brooms that were propped up next to it. Of course there were tears, she was holding her lip in pain, but she was fine, it was a lightweight and almost empty trashcan. Well the greeter that was standing there ran off and got on the phone and called for a manager. When I apologized for the mess and tried to make my way out of the store, she said "oh no, no you can't leave now, the manager's coming!" Thouroughly confused, I asked her to clarify, apologized again and continued to comfort Eleni who really wanted to go home...like me.
She told me we had to fill out an incident report becasue Eleni got hurt. I must have looked shocked, which I was. I assured the woman, I think her name tag said Helen, that Eleni (which is greek for Helen...hmmm) was fine, completely fine, and I didn't have any need for the manager. But she assured me that some people say they are fine and then go to the doctor and find out they are not fine. And this with attitude. ATTITUDE. Can you imagine?? I was being given attitude from Helen the greeter because Eleni was FINE and I thought that an INCIDENT report may be a little much. Then I got my favorite: "I'm just doing what I'm told m'am." It wasn't enough that Eleni was fine, Wal-mart wanted me to enter into a contractual agreement with them saying that she was fine, and that if she ever isn't fine it isn't their fault.
Sad, sad, sad. I am thankful for small little shops that barely make rent some months but will take care of your needs and actually bend down to make sure your kids are okay when they get hurt. Who knew Wal-mart was now training their greeters to be paralegals. I just walked away stunned. I didn't wait for the manager. I really do hope Helen didn't get in trouble for that. But I was not going to be held hostage with a crying toddler, no contacts and Helen while the manager walked from what was likely an office that is located a good mile ana half away from the front door.
I am thankful that I came home to a happy, normal and safe house where fat lips and bumped heads are not only manageable but come standard. I am thankful for the simple pleasures that will take place around our 10 foot long old farm table next week.
And I hate to bore you with this, but THANK YOU for accomodating today's story of complications!