We’ve logged a lot of time at Lowe’s lately. The last time I popped in for a visit, an employee asked, “Still here?”
Yes. Still here.
When my siblings and I were little (oh so long ago), my parents designed and built the house they live in today. Many a nap was had in those extra-wide carts at Lowe’s and Home Depot – made for drywall and also for naps.
(Dad spent a lot of time in light sections. I still hold that the light sections make me sleepy.)
Today, Josh and I spend such long stretches of time there that I often do begin to feel drowsy. And cranky. I slump into a pile of lumber, heel-toe it out until I’m crumpled up on the floor with the kitchen magazine I pulled from the front and don’t want to pay for.
I want food, respite, decisions, and darnitall a place to sit. Someone get me a cart. Fetch me a chicken sandwich, prop me up on my purse, and wheel me into the light section. Wake me when you’re done.