An open letter to the people who shop at my local Martin's

Ok, so I went grocery shopping today, totally by myself! Awesome! It is a really weird feeling to go anywhere alone these days, but with Husband being off until this coming Tuesday (that's TEN WHOLE DAYS), I've had enough togetherness for awhile. I needed to go shopping alone for the sake of my sanity. Also so Daughter wouldn't starve. We were completely out of baby food and the only regular people food she will eat is little bits of chicken, little bits of baked ham, and Alphabits.

Since I am sure all the shoppers at our local Martin's supermarket read my blog, I have a few things to say to them:

First of all, when I am piloting a grocery cart full of milk, many juices, ten trillion jars of baby food, fruits and vegetables, etc, I CANNOT STOP ON A DIME. Thanks a lot for turning your cart into me, stopping suddenly to get some cheetos, and just generally being in my way.

To the girl who totally sneezed on me in the personal care aisle, I really hope you don't have bird flu or anything. Cripes, couldn't you have sneezed into your sleeve or something?

To the lady looking at the vaginal creams while trying to look like you were looking at anything but vaginal creams, you could have just picked out what you needed. I don't know you, you don't know me, and honey, we've all been there. Just grab the cream and get it over with. Oh, and I'm sorry I practically had to shove you out of the way to get to the tampons.

To the gal with the leetle teesy newborn babe, please put on some actual clothes to go out of your house. Pajamas are for bedtime, darlin'. I'm not dogging you for being tired, lord knows I know about suddenly being home with a newborn and completely sacrificing sleep in the PM hours. I'm just saying that we'd all feel better if you'd jump in the shower and put on some clean pants.

To the woman and son behind me at the checkout, I'm sorry about how long it takes to unload ten trillion jars of baby food. Also, enjoy the two bottles of whiskey sour mix, five bottles of A1 steak sauce, and 8-pack of AA batteries you were buying. Sounds like a party!

To everyone driving in the store parking lot, NONE OF YOU SHOULD HAVE A DRIVERS LICENSE.

To the cart boy who helped me load my groceries into the car, thank you and Happy New Year.