I had ordered some clothes for G from Lands End and needed to return them (why don't size 14 pants fit the same as size 14 tights? Huh? WHY NOT??) and so we went to Sears, but it was on the way home from G's orthopedic Dr. Appt. (continue physical therapy, wear knee brace during physical activity, let's pray this doesn't happen again or it's time for surgery) so we ended up at some downmarket ghetto Sears (I know, I know, which Sears ISN'T downmarket ghetto?) and the checkout guy is huffing and can't believe that I didn't bring the plastic bags with the SKU #s for the pants, and it's hard for him to find the #s except HEY, MOTHERFUCKER, THERE THEY ARE LISTED ON THE RECEIPT NEXT TO DETAILED DESCRIPTIONS OF THE CLOTHING. But, because it's the holidays, I don't say anything and am kind.
We looked for clothing - don't ask me why - and we decided it was too skeevy. Shocking.
Then, we stopped at the Target by my house to get a sympathy card and some long sleeved t-shirts for G, and, after trying on a bunch of crap, ended up with a card and 3 items of clothing (2 long sleeved t-shirts and a plaid dress) and when the Target lady asked me if I'd like to move to register 8 and I tried, eleventy fucking people and their piled up shopping carts cut in front of me. So I'm standing there, stunned, and I get furious and say, FUCK THIS (because I am a model parent) and walked out of Target, not realizing until I got to the car that I still had the sympathy card in my hand, so THEY MADE ME STEAL. BASTARDS.
Ho fucking ho.