Who's the Dork Wad now?

I was able to buy a size 10 pant at Kohls yesterday. I was pretty stoked! They make my bum look way cute, if I do say so myself! I was pretty excited to wear them on my shopping trip today. I wore my new hip jeans, my rockin' new hoodie and my uber high heeled boots. I only had 1 store to go to... and I'm a get-in-get-out kind of girl-- so I figured my boots would be fun. Who knows, maybe I would even like being all girlie.

I set out on my adventure... and do you know what I forgot to do when I bought my awesome size 10 pants? I forgot to sit down in them. Don't laugh! You know you do it too... you try on the pants, but you have to sit down in them just to make sure they don't make your eyes pop out.

Umm. Yeah.

I forgot to do that. Do you know how long of a drive 7 miles is when you are wearing pants that make your eyes want to pop right out of your head? Pretty dang long. I had to undo not only the 2 buttons, but the zipper too... or else I may have puked up my spleen. I should have just turned around right then, but I reasoned with myself that I only had 1 store, so I should just endure and get the jaunt over with.

After the 3rd store, my feet were starting to hurt. Bad. Picture me, hobbling through Wal-mart--looking for that coveted gift-- with sore feet, my buttons AND zipper undone on my pants because now I just couldn't even breathe with the dang pants on. I had my tank and shirt pulled WAY down so as to not expose myself and Moxie decided that now, right now! In the middle of Wal-mart, NOW DAMMIT! would be a good time to have her first melt down.

Yeah. Good times.

Then I smell her. Boy Howdy did she ever stink. I think there was a small explosion. For reals. I riffle through my bag, with screaming baby, throbbing feet and too tight, undone pants only to realize-- I HAVE NO DIAPERS OR WIPES!

Yeah.

The good times just keep on a rollin'!

I hobble over to the baby isle, pick up a pack of diapers, wipes, and some formula, cause lets face it... the kid was starving too. Mother of year? Yeah. I think not.

I hobble down to the restroom area, open up the diapers and then proceed to the family restroom. I knock on the door, only to hear a man, yes a MAN! yell out occupied. A man? In the family bathroom? Are you kidding me? So I turned around and went into the regular bathroom. I set us up to change her pants and my mind starts wandering...

"Man. My feet hurt. These pants did NOT feel this tight in the store. How did they trick me like that? I wonder if my kids would freak out if I made them eat Lasagna for dinner? I need a diet coke. I'm totally getting a diet coke after this. And chocolate. Oh. I need to pee too. Yeah. After I finish this, I'm totally going to pee. Where will I put Moxie? I hope she won't crawl under the stall. Maybe if I hurry? . . . "

That's when out of the corner of my eye I see a dude walk in the bathroom, take one look at me and promptly turn around. I snickered to myself, because what a dork-wad that he went in the wrong bathroom! Can't he read? I keep on spacing off when I notice another, different dude walk into the bathroom and promptly turn around and walk out.


HA HA HA HA!

What complete DORK WADS!
I mean really?!
How hard is it to just look at the picture?? For Pete's sake, Can't they read??
Good-freaking-grief! My feet hurt and I can't breathe!
Go in the right bathroom, will ya? You dumb dorky dudes!

I'm still spacing, when a THIRD dude walks in, walks out but then he does something totally different... HE WALKS BACK IN!
I look at him, a little horrified, as we walks behind me (unbuttoning his pants, I might add) and says: "Ummm. Lady? I think you are in the wrong bathroom."

Suddenly the lights come on in my brain, and I realize that the sinks I had been staring at in the mirrors? Ummm. Yeah. They were in fact NOT sinks, but urinals.

URINALS!

For the love of all that's holy, they were URINALS! In the boys bathroom.

I quickly gathered up my stuff, and slithered across the hall to the GIRLS bathroom (and had to go past all the dudes that were outside waiting-- talking like a bunch of-- dare I say it? GIRLS!)

Then, as I am standing in the check-out line? Yeah. I look back, and who is in line behind me? The dude. The dude who pointed out just exactly WHERE I HAD BEEN....

Ummm. Yeah.

Who's the dork wad now?

Ummm. Me.
With my too tight pants, uber high-heeled boots, sore feet, wrong bathroom entering, sorry self. I AM the dork-wad.

Hear me roar.