While at Walgreens the other day, I was annoyed to see that they had a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition promo box full of magazines near the check out, not in the magazine aisle. Normally, I hate being “that” person so I would have ignored it, but the fact that it was positioned at my almost 3-year-old’s eye level really ticked me off. In fact he tried to take a copy for himself, thus alerting me to this in the first place.
I mean, really, there is this sexy, mostly naked model holding herself and it’s facing the main aisle and not only is it in the wrong section of the store, it’s at a child’s eye level. I’m not trying to make issues out of nothing, but I felt convicted that I let so much else slide morally speaking that this couldn’t be just another thing I turned away from.
Full of my righteous indignation, I marched to the check out, determined to let my opinion be known in a civil and practical manner, in a way that would be courteous, yet challenging to the management.
Sum, on the other hand, didn’t feel like cooperating. While I approached the check out, he started grabbing everything in sight. I slapped little hands, corrected calmly and smiled at the cashier. “I noticed that you (no SUM!) have a box of Sports Illustrated (STOPPIT NOW!) swimsuit edition (NOOO!) at his level and it really bothers ME BECAUSE (NO! NOT THE DONATION SHAMROCKS, STOP RIPPING UP THE SHAMROCKS!!!)”
“Yeah, my little boy would have got in them too,” the cashier said seriously, completely missing my point. He sympathetically looked at my little terror, feeling sorry for me and my poor parenting. “They are in a bad place, I don’t know why they put them there”.
“Ummmmm, yeah, ummm” Sum grabbed another shamrock and there was a line growing behind me. As that shamrock ripped, my decision to jut get out of there was made.
I tried.
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