Subourbon Mom


You Really Can Get Everything at Walmart!

I don’t know how or why the Jesus Freaks find me, but they do – and it’s usually at Walmart.  Now, before you get all upset, know that I do believe, but I believe in the privacy of my head and heart.

I’ve had two people tell me in the check-out line that it’s their second birthday, as in, they’re Born Again.  (Personally, I don’t think it’s the best metaphor – why would anyone want to leave their warm, dark cocoon where they have been fed and grown with no effort for the cold, bright world where every day can be a struggle?  How about something like “Refried” instead?)

Ummmm…so you’re Born Again. First, you look tall for a two-year-old.  Second, I’ve had 47 birthdays, and I never once told anyone in a check-out line when they happened.  Third, why do you think I need to know you and Jesus are besties when I’m standing here trying to figure out who wore the superman glasses better – George Clooney or Denzel Washington?

But the best encounter happened yesterday.  I was standing in the freezer aisle at Walmart trying not to buy yet another bag of tater tots, when two teenage girls approached me.

“Excuse me, M’am?” they asked.

“Huh?”

“Hi. Um, would you like us to pray for you?”

“What, here?” I asked.

“Yes.  Or is there someone you would like us to pray for?”

Oh my God, this is a blog happening right now.

“My family – they’ve got issues.”

“Okay. Would you mind if we lay hands on you, or is that too weird?”

“That is definitely too weird.”

Then they said a very nice prayer in the middle of the freezer aisle.

So why me? I recently asked my gym trainer if I have a serious RBF (Resting Bitch Face), because whenever I go to other gyms, the trainers never talk to me, while they talk to everyone else who is new. And it’s not because I’m doing things correctly, either.  She said no (probably for self-protection), that mine wasn’t bad. I just always look like I’m concentrating (#thestruggleisreal).

Why do people feel the need to approach me and tell me all about their relationship with God/Jesus?  Do I have a RSMF (Resting Save Me Face)?  You can’t tell me my RSMF is worse than the woman smacking her kid in the child-abuse aisle, or the addict who’s hanging around in the parking lot asking for cash, or the people who live in their camper in the back of the parking lot. I’m pretty sure they might need help from Above a little more than I do.

So please, let me keep my headphones on while I play my soothing spa music and shop.  And while I don’t want it to happen again, it just proves that you really can get everything at Walmart.




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