You’ve seen that horrifying website “The People of Walmart”, right? It is a collection of the most cringe worthy folks that have stumbled into Walmart shopping centres across the world. You know, the people with feces soaking through their shorts or wearing a sheer pantyhose bodysuit as they peruse the produce aisle. I nearly made the cut once.
I was making a trip into Walmart with my two boys. The oldest was barely three and the other was a newborn. But we are talking BIG newborn. He was nearly 10 lb at birth and seemed to double in size in no time. He was a hefty wee thing and I had to hold him carefully and securely with both arms to keep him steady. In order to keep the older boy safe in busy parking lots we invented a “fun game” where I would instruct him to “hook up the trailer”. I would pretend to be a train or a tractor or a big truck. At the prompt to “hook up the trailer” he would grasp onto both back pockets of my blue jeans with his pudgy hands. I was then reassured that he was safely tethered to me and close enough to monitor that he wasn’t about to become a pancake in the busy parking lot. Once he was firmly attached I would clutch the newborn to my chest and we would chug, slowly but surely, towards the entrance.
On this particular day we had made it to the crosswalk near the entrance and vehicles going both directions had stopped to let us cross. I nodded in appreciation and proceeded to start shuffling forward. My little man caught his footing, whether due to the skiff of gravel on the pavement or by hooking a foot on the speed bump I will never know. He tumbled down but he did not release his tight death grip on both back pockets of my jeans. As he fell I could feel my jeans falling with him. In slow motion horror I felt the crisp fall air hit both cheeks as my super stretchy, saggy mom underpants plunged below my knees. There was no way I could set the newborn down on the busy pavement and no respite in sight. I had no choice other than to set my jaw in a determined clench, clench other parts that shall remain unnamed and chug forward, dragging the toddler and clutching the newborn in my arms. I made it safely to the other side of the crosswalk where I was able to deposit my precious bundle of joy into a cart and haul up the remaining layers of my dignity.
To this day I keep expecting a cell phone shot of my bare ass with kids dangling precariously from various parts of my body to surface on the POW site.