My Dearest Love,
I know I’m five days late, missing Valentine’s Day and all, but my new adopted mantra is “it’s never too late to speak love.”
So here it goes, boo, bae, snookiepookiesnugglewuggums, whatever works.
Oh, Walmart Grocery let me count the ways in which to profess my undying, irrevocable love for you, from your newest, truest secret admirer.
You probably don’t know it yet, but I’m in love with you. How could you know though? I just found you two days ago. I’ve been stalking (it is really just browsing) you ever since. What can I say? You are gorgeous…like Edward-Cullen-gorgeous, who knows, you might even sparkle, too.
Do you really look this good in person, as you do online? Don’t answer that. I’m going to be upfront, I’m a mom (leave your Twilight judgement here, yes, I’m too old to still talk about it, okay—let it go). As a mom, if I ask you a question, believe I already know the answer.
I’m going to be honest though, I knew the old you, before you changed (I applaud Carlisle). I’ll admit, I wasn’t exclusive to you, Wal-Mart. Don’t worry though, it was me not you.
We went out several times, more like we were steady (with the exception of my cheating), back when you were normal, but I don’t think you remember me, or maybe you do? (Think Bella, if she were slightly insane, had some (okay, a lot) kids, and was a tried and true mombie—I’ll get to that later…)
In case you don’t remember, let me refresh your memory…
I was the lady, taming a small wolf pack, in sweat pants, uggs, a t-shirt from the 90’s, who’s hair was in a messy bun—not the cute kind that girls pin on Pinterest either, more the sad kind, like an awkward beehive, if that beehive was set on fire then doused in oil and perm gel. Don’t even ask me about my make-up…in the words of Sweet Brown, “ain’t nobody got time for that…”
Remember earlier, when I said it was me, not you? Well, that wasn’t entirely true.
It was actually my small herd of children. Every time, I’d visit you with them, they changed (think wild animals, the kind that voluntarily wax floors with their pelt, sanitize meat cabinets with their tongues, furiously unwrap 50 candy wrappers in .02 seconds while they stand in line, use your restroom 5 times in one trip (their little bodies groan out at the top of their voice—the kind that even your greeter hears in the entryway—”I’m POO (ugggh) PING”)…and gives your entire store a sweet rendition of “AHHHHHHH, WAHHHHHHH, RRRAAAA!” (It’s a classic, it stays at the top of all the charts.)
Even though we used to date, we may never have traded glances (I’m shy, okay). Really, I was busy ducking to avoid eye contact, while chasing the herd (the 4.5 kids ages 9 and under) and trying to pay attention to you, too.
Ducking, while chasing? Yes, I’ll admit that I might have mirrored a slightly intoxicated person. Is it coming back to you now?
Security may have alerted you back then, as I wildly threw your merchandise in my cart, sprinted after the herd (or small terrorists, as the old man on aisle 4 referred to them last time), and stared at the ground to avoid those “people” who love to tell me how full my hands are, or that I have a lot of weddings to pay for. They probably told you I was on drugs, but that’s motherhood, okay. My kids are the only drugs I need.
But those days are gone now. The old you is dead to me, now that I’ve heard about the new you, the kind that only offers services through the internet. Where did I hear this you ask?
Housewives, the ones you’ve recently corrupted. You forgot to have them sign the NDA, Christian.
They are kissing and sharing…
Walmart Grocery, you are now a hot commodity; your time slots are going faster than Adele’s concert tickets.
I wish I could say that you were too good to be true, but you are a real LIFE Adonis of my dreams. I was helpless as my inner goddess fell for you.
Photo Cred: Austin Schmid
(The photo above is of me jumping for my new found joy. That’s a lie, it’s not me, but it emulates how I feel on the inside. That’s what counts, right?)
Let me list the ways I will never be the same again thanks to you, Walmart Grocery :
Because of you, I will never have to step inside another grocery store with my wild herd ever again. This will save my sanity, my self-esteem, and my children endless spankings.
Because of you, I already gladly accepted and used the free $10 coupon you gave me just for joining your provocative musings. That $10 covered my margarita mix. Thank you for already knowing my needs, soulmate.
Because of you, I can sit behind my computer screen and click to the beat of my own drum, ordering groceries and essentials from my home. Tampax to chicken broth, your entire website is my playground.
Because of you, I have two-whole hours to show up whenever the hell I want. Walmart Grocery, you know my life. You understand me and that I’m never on time (thanks children and all the lost shoes we can never find).
Because of you, you will call and tell me, in the most pleasant voice, that my grocery order is ready and just to ring you when I’m ready. You will even laugh when I tell you that this is my first time…
Because of you, I will never search for another parking spot again. I will simply pull into the designated A-D parking spaces for grocery pick-up. This will add years to my life, my car value will go up too. You’ve saved me from a parking lot altercation and my vehicle from countless dents.
Because of you, I can remain in my cozy driver seat and the children buckled, zombified by the dvd player, as you load our groceries. Again, you know my life Walmart Grocery. You know I wasn’t thinking about grocery shopping when I voluntarily signed up for four kids.
Because of you, I have to do no work other than lift my fingers to sign. (This one needs no commentary, really who wants to do the work? Believe and Receive, amiright?)
Because of you, I don’t have to go without that pint of rocky-road ice cream, because you will even substitute out of stock items for me. It’s like you can read minds, of course, I wanted triple fudge, you God.
Because of you, I now know true love.
Thank you Walmart Grocery for being my one and only, don’t mess this up. I can’t go back…
I love you.
—Your (not so) Secret Admirer