A Mom on a Mission

Shopping for school supplies is not for the faint of heart. Let me tell you why it isn't only hazardous for your physical health but your sanity too.

First off, I must tell you I've always been a deadline junkie. Now I realize this isn't the best attitude when it comes to buying school stuff, but this year I didn't have much of a choice (at least, that's what I tell myself ). Going into any Wal-Mart two days after school starts can be an unnerving adventure.

After arming myself with a list and a cart, I entered into enemy territory. The aisles for back-to-school supplies were clogged with teams of parents and kids. Efforts at being polite were futile, I soon realized. More than once I was prodded by someone else's cart or nearly run over by an overzealous juvenile. "Okay", I thought to myself, "we're gonna play this way, huh? Well no more Mrs. Nice/Polite Lady!"

So I started talking to myself, out loud. That will get people moving. Especially if you're weird about it.

I began muttering about the items on my son's list. There were definitely some unusual things on it.

"Cotton balls?" I asked me. "What the devil do they plan to do with cotton balls?!"

That earned me a raised eyebrow from a mom and her teenage son.

I sighed. All right, so this was going to be an entire store scavenger hunt. I could waltz over to that section later, so I glanced down at the next item.

"Huh? Four pocket folders with brads? Who the heck is Brad and why is he in a folder?"

A couple of teenage girls looked questioningly at me before hurrying over to another aisle.

I looked for a good ten minutes at all those folders. They had ones with Barbie on them. There were Transformer folders. I think I saw an entire box of psychedelic patterned folders. But none of them had brads in them. None!

I sighed. "I think he'll have to go bradless for a while."

An older woman by herself frowned at me as I ambled past her. I can only imagine what she was thinking about me, not that I cared anyway.

Okay, next item.

"Wide ruled notebook paper, sealed. Two packages."

That should have been easy enough. I fleetingly wondered why it had to be sealed though. Were they concerned about notebook paper tampering or something?

Upon finally locating the aisle for said paper, I was dismayed to discover it had already been plundered.

"Argh! There's not a single package left! I'm too late!" I muttered angrily. There were, however, scores of college ruled paper. But I knew it wouldn't be a good substitute. I would anger the gods if I tried to send it to school with Eric.

I gave up on the paper crusade. It would have to wait along with the mysterious bradded folders. So, on to the next thing.

I stared at it in disbelief.

"Two black Expo markers? What the...?"

I was completely baffled by that one. After an extensive search in the school supply section, albeit a slow one through the mire of turtle-speed shoppers, I found out Expo markers are for dry-erase boards. This was a new one for me. We sure didn't have those when I was in school.

Great. Now I was starting to feel old.

Alas, Wal-Mart was out of them too. By now I was coming to expect that. But just as I turned to leave the area, my eye caught on an overturned package of Expo markers under a pile of Post-It notes.

"Yay! Go me! I found 'em!"

I tossed them victoriously into my cart and did a little happy dance right there on the spot. A dad and his young daughter edged away from me warily.

Luckily, I was able to locate the rest of my son's supplies in the next aisle. They were the standard fare of any school list. Things like crayons, pencils, pens, and the like. By the time I finally got to the checkout lanes, it was getting late. There were masses of fellow shoppers with the same idea. The queues were long except for the self-service registers. You know by now where I was headed.

Being a former checker, I scanned all of my stuff with ease and bagged it too. Then I pushed the cash payment key. Confidently, I whipped out my money and fed it into the proper slot. Then the machine had the audacity to spit it back out!

So I tried again. It drooled my twenty back at me.

"Why you sorry little b-!" I started to grumble.

After another couple of efforts, I gave up and offered the Mechanism of Ire my debit card. That satisfied Its hunger at last. I snatched up my receipt and my bags. It was time to get the heck outta Dodge.

So, there you have it. That was my experience shopping for school supplies this year for my son Eric. Luckily, I'd been smarter and gotten my daughter's stuff back during the summer (they'd been nice enough to provide a list when I registered her for kindergarten). If you're a parent, you'll know what a headache it can be. I now consider myself a veteran of the School Supply War. I've already decided being a deadline junkie does not apply to this sort of situation. Especially if bradded folders are on the list!