HIPPO BRIGADE

Beef Jerky, Dryer Sheets, and Pregnancy Tests

Last weekend we were fresh out of nothing, lots of stuff, and looking for something to do, so we headed to Costco. We had no agenda except to load up on free carbs and meat the old ladies in hair nets were passing out. Cookies hot out of the micro-bake and then cut with kid scissors? Yes please!
We walked up and down all the isles. We seriously considered buying a 20 pound tub of beef jerky, a 45 pack of pastel cotton crew socks for women, and an unheard of amount of goat cheese, but instead we were trying to keep our purchases modest. So what actually made it into the cart were 506 count pack of dryer sheets, freezer bags, a whole chicken, fruit snacks, baby wipes, a 12 pound bag of walnuts, and a box of 4 pregnancy tests.

Let me pause the story for a second for a quick interjection: I am not pregnant, and I am not planning on getting pregnant for a while. I just like to have pregnancy test on hand. Kind of like how I always keep a bottle of Manischewitz wine and a box of Matzo Crackers in my cupboard for unexpected visits from my Jewish aunt, Tovha. And when pregnancy test are at Costco for a really good price, you bet I’m buying a box, because I love a bargain.
Back to the story: after our bellies were full with all the cheese balls, corn dogs, and juice the old ladies could legally give us, we headed to the cash register. And we didn’t just go to any cashier, because we specifically wanted to avoid this onry and obnoxious guy that we got last time. Oh, he was the worst, he kept grabbing Berlyn’s feet and smiling too close to my face–ugh, don’t touch my baby and avoid direct eye contact with me, please.
We instead chose the longest line because it was far, far away from mister close smiler/baby feet toucher. We finally got to the cashier and she started ringing up our goods: walnuts, dryer sheets, pregnancy tests.
“OH how fun!! Are you guys trying to get pregnant??” she asks.
I immediately look at the debit card machine, and let my husband handle this, like I always do. Although he just looks back a me and smiles.
“You guys are a cute family, you should totally have another baby! It must be so fun to ‘try.’” She said, and then gave me this haunting look.
Yuck, I thought while trying to concentrate on sliding my card. Aren’t checkers supposed to be discreet with customer’s purchases? Does she comment on everything people buy? What if I bought some jumbo tampons? Would she lament with me about her heavy flow? What about Astroglide? Would she feel entitled to strike up a conversation about vaginal dryness? At this point I was pissed off, and grumbled some stuff under my breath as I looked up at her from under my furrowed brow.

I pushed the cart away in a huff when we were done and she called out behind me, “GOOD LUCK ON MAKING ANOTHER BABY!!”
I was deeply appalled and because I’m so quick on my feet, I turned back at her and said, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
WHAT??? I don’t appreciate anything she said. But because I’m such a pansy, that’s what came out of my mouth. UGH! Sometimes, I irritate myself.
So, now I have two checkers I avoid when I go to Costco.