I just returned from Wal-Mart and need to dash off a few notes.
1) Dear People Who Work at the McDonald’s inside Wal-Mart,
I started a diet today, and fooled myself into thinking it would be okay to have Quarter Pounder w/cheese at your establishment this evening since I hadn’t eaten enough to keep a bird alive all day. You saved me from having to regret my dinner by making it truly the ickiest thing I have tried to consume in recent memory. Including Christmas fruitcake.
2) Dear Wal-Mart Stocker Guy,
As my little one and I passed you this evening, you could be heard to say to your co-worker, ” What if that motherfucker shows you his burner?”. Now, most mothers would get all pissy about you cussing and referring to gunplay in front of their child, but I’m cut from a different cloth. I want to thank you for giving my child a bit of real world education. Why, just this evening, he told me he was gonna pop a cap in my ass if I didn’t let him have some candy. I’m sure your mother is just as proud of you as I am.
Love, Too scared of your big gangsta ass to tell you off for that shit
3) Dear little girl who looked at Pooter like he was a mentally unbalanced alien,
You’re very perceptive.
Love, The frazzled lady in the deli
4) Dear Pooter,
You have reached a milestone. You no longer wish to ride in the grocery cart because you are a big boy. I’m good with that. What I am most assuredly not good with is you acting like a crazy mo-fo, with the running and the yelling and the general bad behavior.
This is all the more frustrating because you have always been a perfect child in public.
So, I am sorry to say, you are no longer welcome to go to the store with me until you can figure out that while crazy people may be welcome at Wal-Mart, I do not wish to join their ranks.
Love, Mommy (AKA, the she-demon who is making you clean your room right now)