I hate shopping. I especially hate shopping when there are only four lanes open, three of which are loaded to the brim and the fourth is being operated by the store newbie. So when the self-checkout lanes became a reality, I was over the moon. I could get in, grab my stuff, check out, bag my items how I wanted them bagged, and get the hell out of Dodge.
But lately, it seems like the self-checkout has become a haven for the technologically disadvantaged and/or perpetually slow shoppers and I’ve had it, damnit! However, the other day as I was waiting to check out with all three kids in tow, it occurred to me that there should be a MOM’S ONLY self-checkout lane. And I’m not just talking about the moms who seemingly have it all together, all the while screaming internally. No, no. I’m talking about all moms.
You got it together? You wearing a scrunchie from 1984 with a baby clutching to your chest? Are you talking at your kids through your teeth, “just-you-wait-til-your-father-gets-home”
for the millionth time in ten minutes? No problem. At this self-service line, you’re all welcome. Enjoy complimentary chocolate and a carry-out cup of wine or coffee, courtesy of the house. Kids screaming? Here’s some melatonin. Caught judging another mom’s mom fail? You’re banned for life, Mindy McJudgerson. And you can leave
Adding to that, the penalty for going through the Moms Only checkout lane without any children is pretty strict. Even more so than going to a family restroom with no kids. Well, maybe not more strict; they’re both pretty on par with one another. Even still, the rules on both those issues should be relatively sizeable given the offenses. We’re talking members-only line, y’heard?
Listen, I’m not implying that a childless person’s time isn’t just as valuable as someone who does have ankle biters. But let’s be real for a moment, shall we? If it takes a childless adult 45 minutes to check out with a gallon of milk and a package of Orbit gum, then they CLEARLY have bigger fish to fry. And there’s no way on God’s green earth that you need an 8×8 bathroom space to relieve yourself. Saddle up in a cubicle style stall like the rest of us, ma’am. Just saying.
I’m not saying that I’d live at a checkout like that, but I’d probably have a regular reservation. Ditto on that whole family bathroom thing. I can’t be squeezin’ all of this plus three kids into a glorified closet and expect us all to come out having not been peed on. So, Target? WalMart? Marshalls? Maybe consider us dry-shampoo using, spit-up smelling, kids-are-whining-because-we’re-not-at-the-zoo moms. I think you guys will find the rewards would be pretty fantastic.