I went to Walmart yesterday for the first time in idontknowhowlong.

I didn't even get greeted upon arrival.  All their signs are blue and yellow now. Things really have changed.

I went to Walmart yesterday because I needed one specific item: Semi-sweet chocolate chips, so that my wife and I could make more cookies for Katie Fisher Day!  (Take a moment to familiarize yourself with this recent holiday before moving on.) Since no "normal" supermarket existed between my vehicle and its homeward trajectory, I took the path of least resistance and stopped into the mega-chain in order not to have to drive a bit out of my way.  In short, laziness.

But this isn't really a piece about Walmart.  Cause seriously ya'll, who gives a crap about Walmart.

As a final parting shot, however,  I will say that Walmart was completely out of the *one item I was looking for* and I was forced to slum it with a combination of milk chocolate chips and Reese's Pieces.  I'm nothing if not resourceful.

As I was browsing the food related isles for my Walmart target (hehe, couldn't resist), I meandered across a mother and her two children.  The son, the younger of the two children at about 8-years-old, seemed perfectly content going from food bin to food bin checking out each new package like a dog sniffing every nook and cranny of a new room.

The woman's daughter was older, 12 or 13, and appeared to be having a more interactive relationship with this aisle full of temptation.  As I physically passed by the family,  the daughter opened a "negotiation" with her mom. Her tone was in an octave that only 13-year-olds are privy too, despite the fact that hearing it the vocal equivalent of having a shiv slid up through your neck and into the base of your brain.  Except you don't die. In this case, the daughter was a mixture of pleading with her mom, asking her mom politely, and demanding this thing from her mom, as her request is so obviously reasonable.

Daughter: Can I paleeeeeeeeeease get a Granola snack bar???!

The Mom replies instantaneously, as if the answer were about to come out of her mouth anyway, and her daughter just happened to get in a few words ahead of time.  Her tone exactly mirrors that of her daughters.

Mom: Can you paleeeeeeeeeeeeease get a job?!

I can't even pretend that the exchange isn't the funniest thing I've heard all day.  I guffaw.  Not laugh.  Guffaw.  A huge exhalation of breath combined with the vocal bass of a Muppet Monster's full body cackling. My expression of glee was entirely too boisterous to pretend as if it didn't happen, especially considered the mom and daughter are both now staring at me, beginning their own growing giggle-fest.

Muahahahaahaahahaahahaa

I stopped, turned, looked back at them.

"Best. Mom. Ever.," I say, and keep on walking.

They broke into hysterics.  I moved through the next aisle.

Three minutes later I could still hear them doubled over two aisle down, laughing at a  perfect comedic moment shared with a perfect passing stranger.