Wal*Mart

Call it Wally World.

Call it a huge retail conglomerate.

Call a black hole.

Call it the abyss.

I call it H*LL!

And the Earnst family visited H*LL on Friday afternoon at, oh, around 5:00 rush hour! Along with every other "savory" character in North Charleston. *just an aside...North Charleston is ranked #7 in the U.S. for crime or most dangerous city*

Brad has searched high and low for a certain basketball goal for Henry for Christmas and every store that he has visited is sold out. This was our LAST option before ordering it online and having to pay for shipping. So we loaded up the Civic. Yes, I said Civic. The small compact car complete with car seat in the back and golf clubs in the trunk. Brad assured me that in the event that they have it (he didn't think they would), the box would fit in the car. "It's not that big.", he says. "I'm sure you're right honey.", I reply. Well, they did have it. THE LAST ONE...in the whole city I presume! We were so excited and Henro was oblivious to the whole event! He was happy as a lark just riding the buggy and viewing all of the interesting...err...crazy people. So we purchase the item and Brad hauls it over his shoulder and heads to the car. But before he could get out the door, the very manly girl receipt checker basically runs him down to get a look at his receipt. She was ticked to say the least, thought he was trying to bolt with the box, and was not amused by my laughter! I had tears rolling down my cheeks at this point from laughing so hard b/c my case of Bud Light kept falling off the cart causing major 'traffic jams' and I had just clipped the heels of a fellow patron. I thought he was going to beat my arse!

So, we finally make it to the car with the box, the boy, and the beer in tact. Pop the trunk. Box doesn't fit. Try the back seat. Box doesn't fit. Try the front seat. Box doesn't fit. So we rearrange the trunk and shove the box in with half of it hanging out and take the dog leash, that happened to be in the back, and strap down the trunk. Ghetto style fo sho! Brad, God love him, was a nervous wreck cruising down I-26 with our baggage and was petrified that we were going to be the cause of a 20 car pile up. Brad was white knuckling the steering wheel, Henry was "squealing" and I was still laughing! TYPICAL!!!

But, we made it home safe and sound and there is gonna be one happy little boy on Christmas morning when Santa Claus delivers that BIG OL TOY!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!