R.I.P. Stuart Little

Today I got the bright idea to mosey on over to the Super Secret
Wal-Mart off of Cottage Hill, in order to save a little dough and maybe, just maybe avoid any and all holiday shoppers. But this day turned out to be much more than I had anticipated. Aside from the usual events that take place in the sleepy South on Saturdays, i.e. SEC Football--I was thrown the curve ball of curve balls. Let me set the scene. I left my apartment at approximately 2pm with my grocery list in hand and proceeded to Wal-Mart. Upon arriving at my not-so-undisclosed destination, I parked my car while avoiding running over children--whose parents should take my advice and march back into the store and purchase a kid-e leash. Do they not get TLC? Have they not seen Jon and Kate Plus 8? Seriously, parking is much more complicated than in days of old due to the many distractions that my ADHD mind is bombarded with. Really, everyday the world around me offers up a full on assault for my senses. Did I mention I have ADHD? OK, so I park my car, grab my purse and make my way into the store. The automatic ENTER/EXIT doors opened, which can be extremely confusing since people are prone to enter via the exit and or exit via the entrance doors. The doors are clearly marked, but who's gonna stop em'? I have a theory. I think that on a subconscious level people want to "stick it to the man" "buck authority" "rebel" and much like Henry David Thoreau, carry out acts of "Civil Disobedience." Back to the pressing matter at hand... I proceeded to cross the threshold where, unbeknownst to me, I would come face to face with a sight of horror. After surviving the F5 tornadic winds--you know what I'm talking about, that gust of wind that hits you smack in the melon and completely ruins your hair--yeah, that mysterious gust housed in the breezeway, I owned it! A very nice woman greeted me at the door, whom I believe is probably an undercover operative looking to sniff out shoplifters. Just a hunch...I got so distracted by her eager and warm welcome that I forgot to get my cart. I don't believe in chance or in luck. Serendipity is a term that I have held in high regard for it's pleasantry when leaving one's lips--but none the less I do not believe in accidents whether happy or not. Which brings me to this question: what's the antithesis of serendipity? I'll stop I promise. I turn around and exited where just moments before I had entered. I find myself waiting in line to get a shopping cart and once the sea of shoppers had parted, I made my way into the cart terminal. At first I thought of going for the cart to my left but something in me moved my feet towards the right. I was either compelled or possessed--who knows? I take hold of the cart and yank it from it's other cart friends, only for my chosen cart to reveal a most disturbing scene. There on the cold, painted gray cement was a dead body. No it wasn't a person. It...was...a.............wait......for....it....a........RAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh my goodness! Oh dear! Holy crap! Shiza! OMG, OMG!!! There it was or at least what was left of it's mangled body. I'm not even going to describe what the crime scene looked like. I don't think I'll ever get it out of my head. As I looked into it's lifeless eyes I felt a pull within my heart--but then I remembered it was a rat and that rats carry diseases and I should step away from the rat ASAP. So I told myself, "Self, step away from the rat." I complied. But I couldn't just leave it there. I panicked. But just as quickly as they came, my fears subsided when I saw the answer to my dilemma: one cart boy donning a very conspicuous hunter-orange colored vest. He was my knight in Hunter Orange. "Excuse me sir," I whispered. He motioned the go-to, "Who? Me?" Then I motioned the go-to, never fails come hither "finger curl." All I have to say is Match. Set. Point. He thought I was hitting on him and was all "aww shucks" but then I hit him with the dirty work. "Umm, there's a dead rat over there and there's a lot of blood." "A what!? A dead(insert whisper sprinkled with shock) rat?!" "Yes, it is a rat and yes it is dead rat." I watched as the color drained from this strapping young man's face. Honestly, I got a kick out of it. There's something so pleasing in seeing a man squirm or get squeemish. Does that make me a bad person? I think not.

So to all of the Wal-Mart shoppers I say "You're welcome." This good samaritan saved you and your children from the anguish and certainty of nightmares to follow, involving the deaths of our beloved childhood mice: Stuart Little, The Great Mouse Detectives, The Mouse and the Motorcycle,Fievel and Mickey Mouse.
Just a note: Stuart is my favorite--he's just too cute and Mr. Kitty bears a striking resemblance to him. Stuart Little=LOVE in my book.