Today I threw a complete mommy fit in Kohl‘s. I don’t often come unhinged in public, but today it definitely happened.
When we first moved back to Louisiana, Husband needed new work clothes and we had no money so my mother-in-law let us borrow her Kohl’s card to buy a few things. Every month when I try to make a payment, I encounter a problem. I realize this is the price I pay for using someone else’s charge card. I realize I really shouldn’t complain. But last month, I called and it was a huge ORDEAL to pay over the phone and when I finally did make a payment they tacked on a $10 charge for paying by phone. This, I decided, was unacceptable to me and I decided this month to finish paying off the balance in person … at a real, live, Kohl‘s store.
I have gotten three nights in a row of crappy sleep, last night TWO screamed half the night and has been cranky due to a cold. I picked ONE up from school and they both whined all the way to Kohl’s which was displeasing to say the least. TWO poured water and juice all over himself so I had to change his outfit in the back of the car when we got there. ONE was being generally difficult and refused to obey even the simplest of instructions once we were actually in the store.
By the time we made our way to the back of the store where the Customer Service counter was located, I had HAD IT. We waited in line. No one was behind the counter. The other women in line were annoyed, and they were alone. I had a toddler trying to climb out of the shopping cart and a preschooler sneaking off to look at Christmas decorations. Finally a woman appeared to assist us, and before it was my turn at the register, I had already pinched the crap out of ONE’s leg and thought every curse word imagineable in my head.
Then it was my turn. I said, “I‘d like to pay the balance on this, please” and handed her the Kohl’s bill. She didn’t know the balance, and I didn’t have a copy of the current bill. “You’ll have to call and ask for the balance,” she said, while my older son snuck off YET AGAIN and my younger son screamed, ripped off his tennis shoes, and threw them on the floor.
“I know this isn’t your fault whatsoever, but seriously … you can’t check the balance? Because when I call they always ask for the last four of the social security number, and this isn’t my card …” She just stared. At me, at my too-tight workout gear, at my misbehaving children, and said “No.”
So I took a deeeeeeeeeeep breath, stepped out of line, called and didn‘t get past the option for the social security info, considered calling my mother-in-law but opted not to because TWO was growing increasingly snotty and upset and I spanked ONE right in front of a crowd of women because HE, FOR THE LOVE, WAS NOT LISTENING TO ME.
This is what I did next. I commanded my children to silence themselves, which they ignored. I blindly guessed at the balance that was owed, got back in line, wrote the stupid lady a check and THEN she told me, “Next time, you can just step right over to that store phone to the left and call Customer Service, they can tell you the balance.”
Oh, really? Is that right?
I pulled TWO out of the shopping cart and stormed off, dragging ONE behind me, looking one hundred percent crazy-eyed. ONE said, “Mommy … you can’t just leave our cart there!” And I practically yelled, “Yes I CAN, and I WILL, and I DID.”
Basically, this is why mothers park like shit, walk around with crazy eyes, and constantly lose their keys. Do not judge us until you’ve lived for three days with a screaming child. At that point, everything becomes what my friend calls a “BFD,“ otherwise known as a Big Fucking Deal.