I Blame Wal-Mart

I spent the 4th of July - my favorite holiday - on crutches and I blame Wal-Mart.

I’m not a huge Wal-Mart fan. In fact, before dating Bill I’d probably only been to a Wal-Mart once or twice. I don’t even know if we had Wal-Marts up here in the Great White North until recently. Maybe we did. Everyone I know always shopped at Target. Who wouldn’t when given the choice?

But Bill has a fondness for Wal-Mart, despite their questionable employment practices and other social sins so, I shop there - usually when Bill comes with me. It’s nice to have someone help bag groceries and carry them out to the car. Plus he’s happy to do all of the price comparison mathematics. I’d sell my soul to give up that responsibility.

Anyway, I picked up some patio cushions on a Wal-Mart trip a couple of weeks ago. They were sort-a cute and a good price so I thought I give them a shot. We brought them home, put them on the patio set, and gave them a try. They looked nice enough, but lord were they uncomfortable! All of the stuffing was piled up in the middle and sitting on them made it feel like someone was pushing pillows up your bum. Fun for some, I suppose but we didn’t enjoy the experience so I decided to return them.

Fast forward a couple of days and I’m heading out to work. I’d planned on returning the bum-pushing cushions during my lunch hour. Bill was working from home that day so I was going it alone. Per usual, I was running a little late so rather than taking a couple of trips to the car, I grabbed my bag, purse, lunch, and then piled all the cushions up in front of me ‘till they were over my head, and then stepped out the door - straight on to the edge of our welcome mat.

My ankle twisted, my foot flipped over and I ended up with the top of my foot on the ground. It hurt like hell.

I went down. The cushions, my bag, carefully packed lunch, and purse flew everywhere and then Bill came running. It was such an absurd situation that I laughed. Hysterically. And then I cried. And laughed and cried some more. Poor Bill didn’t know what to think.

I ended up at Urgent Care later in the day; and in an air cast and crutches by evening. Two days later, I found myself – very pregnant - in a foot wrap and air cast hobbling up a huge, weedy hill in order to watch 4th of July fireworks. Damn Wal-Mart and their crappy goods. They weren’t going to ruin my best holiday. Still, I’m happy to blame them. I mean really, who the hell sells cushions that push all the stuffing up your bum???