No More Walmart

Many people choose not to shop at Walmart for many different reasons.

They put the little guys out of business.

The quality of their products are inferior.

They skimp when it comes to paying their employees.

And the list goes on....

Prior to yesterday, I was an avid Walmart shopper. The greeter at the door of our local store welcomed me with a smile at least three times a week. I was happy to shop there, and they were happy to take in my cash. That was, prior to yesterday.

I didn't jump on the bandwagon to support the previously mentioned concerns.

No, my sweet, darling daughter, who competes with her oldest sister in holding the title of, "Gift for Gab," failed to keep her thoughts to herself, not once, but two times yesterday afternoon.

While perusing the hair accessory isle, we were passed by an employee who was in a wheelchair. I knew the comments were coming when I observed Annie blatantly staring closely observing the employee. And then, the dialogue began, in Annie's obnoxiously loud clearly audible voice.

"Mom. He's in a wheelchair."

"Yes he is, Annie. Some people have to use wheelchairs to get around."

"Mom. He has to be in a wheelchair. I think that he's broken."

With a smirk and a shush, I whisked her away, paid for my goods, and headed to Taco Bell, where Annie added insult to injury.

Because the Taco Bell is adjacent to the Walmart, many of the Walmart employees dine there for lunch. On this particular day, one of the mechanics from the Tire Lube and Express chose to, "Think Outside the Bun." directly across from where Annie and I were doing the same thing.

This mechanic from the Tire Lube and Express was born with female anatomy, but for an almost four year old, her outward appearance proved otherwise. The shaved head and masculine posture made it clear to Annie that this person was indeed a "boy." I'm not sure why I chose to argue the point with her, but I did, continuously rebuttaled by Annie's obnoxiously loud clearly audible voice.

"Mom. Even Walmart workers eat at Taco Bell. Like that boy sitting right there." (pointing definitively at the woman sitting across from us.)

"Annie, that's not a boy. It is a girl."

Thinking I must certainly be confused about who she is referring to, she points her finger a bit firmer and raises her voice just a wee bit louder. "No Mom. That BOY sitting RIGHT THERE!"

"It's not a boy, Annie, it's a girl."

"No mom. That boy who works at Walmart is a BOY!"

I had to remind myself that I am an adult, and there was really no reason to prove to her that the boy was indeed a girl.

I'm convinced that the greeter at the door of the local Walmart will no longer greet me with a smile. I imagine him with a snap shot photo of my daughter with strick instructions to keep her away.