My morning guilt trip

So with Tropical Storm Hanna bringing us rain and a light breeze today, and Hurricane Ike expected to hit Tuesday or Wednesday (we have an "another week, another hurricane" attitude around here), I took the Man-cub to the store to refresh our supplies. I thought his jacket was in the car, but by the time the house was locked and he was strapped into his car seat, I realized the jacket was MIA. No big deal. It was barely sprinkling. A little water isn't going to kill him, I thought. I sure wasn't going to wear a jacket or even a hat, myself. Umbrellas? I hate having one more thing to carry, and then you have to deal with this giant wet thing later.

So off we went, first to the Post Office to mail a gift, where I tripped and slipped on the wet pavement. I didn't fall, but my foot slid sideways in my shoe and made it break. (I have to embarrassingly confess what kind of shoe I was wearing. Why won't I ever learn? Maybe I need a 12-Step program.) Limping into the post office carrying a boxed gift and a 30-pound toddler, I asked one of the guys behind the counter if he could spare some tape.

Sure.

Priority Mail tape.

At least it looks ... patriotic?

Then sporting footwear the likes of which fashionistas have never dreamed, my son and I went into Publix. It was still lightly sprinkling, and I was really wishing I had found his jacket, when another shopper passing me read my mind and said, "Hey! Why don't you have something covering his head?"

This person wasn't even a grandma type -- no abuelita -- not even another mom. No, the shopper chastising me for allowing a few drops of rain to fall on my child's head was a young guy, maybe Asian. I stared at him to try to figure out how I could rebut, but he just kept walking, so it was clear he wasn't interested in a conversation. So I pretended I couldn't understand what he was saying, and headed into the store, all while wondering what kind of man tries to make a limping shoe-impaired mother feel bad about herself.

That was a walk-by guilt trip, it was! I'd had enough tripping for the day, thankyouverymuch!

The Man-cub then had a tantrum, either because the full realization of having a mother who doesn't care about his health had hit him, or because he came face to face with his arch nemesis: the shopping cart.

And later my shoe came undone.

Something really should be done about the stickiness of our nation's postal tape.

And also maybe people who make moms feel bad about nothing.