My Very Very Bad Day...

Introducing (drum roll please) Peggy and The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Today has been beyond frustrating. If I didn't have an MRI tomorrow, I'm sure I'd be sipping on at least one glass of wine as I'm writing my blog. Instead, I am resigned to retell my tale with a cup of ice water on the bedside table and a wiggly over-tired little boy to my side.

I bought my dream KitchenAid convection oven, large enough to bake 60 cookies at a time several years ago. To my disappointment, my oven broke last spring. A few weeks ago the microwave went kaput, and the lower oven is smoking every time I turn the heat above 350 degrees. I knew we were going to have to go appliance shopping soon.

This morning while going through my inbox I came upon an email from the Sears Outlet. After some research I realized that the bargains were amazing. I called my husband, drove to his work, and picked up his credit card. Robby and I were off to tackle the wonderful world of appliance shopping.

I immediately started to browse when we arrived. I prefer to purchase appliances that are scratch and dent. I am happy for the discount, and partly relieved that somebody put the imperfection on the appliance before I do it. I really wouldn't know what to do if I had a brand new, out of the box, unblemished kitchen appliance. It would certainly go against our family motto of "nothing but used, scratch and dent, and refurbished for this family."

I waited for about 5 minutes for an employee to offer me assistance. I could see a group of approximately 6 employees standing in a circle, laughing and joking. I walked over and asked for assistance. I was curtly told that "somebody would be with me when they finished their conversation."

Okay, this got me mad. Normally I would have left, but I really wanted a cheap wall oven. I waited another 10 minutes. I approached the group again, politely requesting assistance. The twenty something employee, obviously annoyed, reminded me that they were having a conversation.

My anger turned to rage. In retrospect I may have overreacted, but I was furious and I wanted somebody to answer my questions. After visually scanning the store, I quickly devised a plan.

I walked to the back of the outlet store where the mattresses were stacked. I pulled down a twin mattress and dropped it in the middle of the aisle. I then walked past the talking, don't-want-to-be-bothered working employees, and took a blanket off of the display rack. I put the blanket on the bed, and told Robby (in a very loud voice of course) that "he should make himself comfortable because Mommy isn't leaving until somebody helps her, so he'll probably have to sleep at the store."

Another employee approached me and offered assistance. Finally, somebody to answer a simple questions. As it turns out, none of the oven units came in the size I needed. I complained about the treatment from the other employees, and he asked me to wait a moment. I saw him approach the brood and a brief yet animated discussion ensued. When the man returned he apologized profusely for the employees' behaviors. He explained that the worker's didn't think I would be able to pay for any appliances. I wonder though... Did my prosthetic have anything to do with their rash and incorrect conclusion?

After waiting at the Sears Outlet store for nearly 35 minutes, Robby was impatient and wanted to move around. Against my better judgement I opted to walk through the mall with him. I wanted him to release some energy so that I had a chance of his going into bed at a reasonable hour.

Robby was absolutely charming as we walked to the other side of the mall. I should probably mention that this mall is one of the largest in the country and walking to the other side is no easy feat. Because he was being a good boy, we bought ice cream at the cookie store which he thought was an absolute hoot. I actually got compliments concerning my little boy's behavior.

And then, in the blink of an eye, Robby the Good morphed into Robby Rotten in front of my eyes. He wanted to ride the little train, but it cost $1.25. I only too 3 quarters out of the car because I never imagined that the little rides would cost more. He started to scream, and he was loud.

I had to carry him, kicking and screaming, to the other end of the mall. He squirmed, he smacked and he cried the entire way. In the spirit of full disclosure, he did stop screaming on a few occasions. The trip back to the car went something like this, in a loud volume:

"ARGHHHHHH ARGGHHHHHHHH Look Momom, free food (he saw samples being offered). ARRGGHHHHH ARRGHHHHH Look Momom, free food... ARRGHHHH ARRGGHHHHh Look Momom, big nipples. (pointing to the well-endowed but scantily clad woman in the kiosk) Look Momom, more big nipples.... ARGGHHHHH.... ARGGHHHHHH... Look Momom, Robby eat a boogie ARGGHHH Yummy more boogie"

This continued until he was put in his car seat. I drove home frustrated, tired and with a killer headache. My arms hurt from lugging 40 pounds of kicking fury through the mall. I was angry with the employees of the Sears Outlet. I was disappointed that I will have no cooking appliances unless we find something soon. I was embarrassed by my son's behavior. Robby was thirsty and crying because he wanted water. Apparently the boogie he ate must have been salty.