Guest Blogger--Melissa Mitchell

I am a 29 year old stay at home mama to 4 crazy kids. I'm married to a super hunky fabulous husband, and I like to write. No, wait, love it. I'm not published, I don't have a hidden novel I've written under my bed, I just like to write blogs. I must not be getting enough laughs at home, because I love to write my crazy stories and have my virtual friends respond to them. You can catch me at http://www.glamazonmormonmom.blogspot.com/.

Sometimes I want to Punch People in the Face
Particularly when I am shopping. Shopping at WalMart, of course. The place I dread going, but always end up there at least once a week. Oh WalMart, I just can't quit you, with your low low prices and parking lot solicitations. (Hey, you wanna buy some tamales? Who goes to WalMart to buy tamales in the parking lot?)
Yesterday, while on my 21st diaper change, I realized the older babies were out of diapers. After securing a babysitter, I went to the store, that's right, all by myself. I am such a big girl. Of course I could never just walk away with diapers, there are so many things I need to buy. It was time for me to get some clinical strength deo for my BO (which was previously mentioned here, and is in no way a personal reflection on my rapidly decaying body, but moreso a way to blame my children for anything that is wrong with me-aren't I the best mom?)
I waited in an unbelievably long line to buy my super saver items, during which a group of young men cut in line right in front of me (I think they were the guys trying to sell me the tamales) during which I told them that was rude...in my mind. Of course I just sat there fuming and bought myself a Reese's...see how good I am at dealing with anger?
Anyway. I get up to the checker, and find out why the line is moving soooo slowly. The cashier, oh, let's call her Shannon* has been inspecting each product that happens to cross her path. I'm doing alright with her slow, methodical and maddening method, until she picks up the deodorant. She scans it, stops, looks at me and says, "That is expensive deodorant." She stands there, staring at me like I'm crazy. I say quickly, "I know. That's okay." She continues, "Wow. reallyexpensive. For deodorant?" The man behind me in line clears his throat, as she continues to hold the deodorant, nodding her head in disbelief. "Yes. That's okay." She looks at me for another 30 seconds, and I am wondering if she is going to let me buy the deodorant, obviously I am going to need to clear my 'larger' purchases with her. I wait for 10 more minutes while she scans my remaining 5 items, and then go to pay for my purchases. Like an idiot, I use a credit card, so she will have to check my ID. She looks at the picture on my driver's license, looks at me, looks back at the license, looks at me again, and says, "Wow. You look different." Thank you, Shannon. I do realize that I am here with no makeup on and sopping wet hair, buying ridiculously expensive deodorant to cover up my stinky mommy smell, that I have put on a few lbs in the past few years, and that one day I may well be pretty again, but for the time being I have four children- three of them ages two and under-waiting for me at home, and if you don't give me my dang groceries I am going to go mama bear on your you know what and you will be sorry you ever messed with me.
Whew.
Of course, that was just what I said in my mind. Instead, I left with a stupid smile on my face telling her to have a nice day. I think I have anger management issues.