Cheap jewelry and women’s underwear: a meltdown

I had a meltdown in Walmart about a month ago.

I’d grabbed my Suave Sweet Pea and Violet body wash, pack of men’s razors, perused the small appliance aisle, picked up a few vanilla-scented votives and successfully located my mother near the grocery section so I could place my items in her cart. When I realized I’d forgotten to pick up a pair of gloves, I took off and expected my mom to follow me.

Little girl’s. Little boy’s. Handbags. Scarves. Cheap jewelry. Women’s underwear.

Little girl’s. Little boy’s. Handbags. Scarves. Cheap jewelry. Women’s underwear.

Little girl’s. Little boy’s. Handbags. Scarves. Cheap jewelry. Women’s underwear.

Little girl’s. Little boy’s. Handbags. Scarves. Cheap jewelry. Women’s underwear.

Little girl’s. Little boy’s. Handbags. Scarves. Cheap jewelry. Women’s underwear.

I saw the same Walmart associates again and again. They stared at me –– me, in my tie-dye pants, moccasin-style boots, bright green Michelin-man coat and the mess of colors on my hat, complete with ear flaps –– every time.

Little girl’s. Little boy’s. Handbags. Scarves. Cheap jewelry. Women’s underwear.

No gloves. No mom. No answer on her phone. No matches for my candles.

Nobody to come home to every night. Nobody to ask me, “Did you have a good day?” Nobody to eat dinner with. No dogs, thus no tails wagging. No reason to go home. No home.

I found scarves for $4.99 and an array of sports watches for $10, but no gloves.

The good news is, I, breathless, found Mom in the coffee aisle, lightyears away from the little girl’s, little boy’s, handbags, scarves, cheap jewelry and women’s underwear sections.

When I nearly started crying at the sight of her, she calmed me down. She understood that Walmart, though gargantuan, wasn’t entirely to blame.

She slept on the couch in my living room for one night before leaving me be.

Letting me be.

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