Eve N.

We're in the car headed to Walmart, listening to a CD of stubbornly adhesive children's songs requested every time I get in the car with my four year old daughter, Jade. Her year-and-a-half old sister, Romi silently approves of her taste in music from her buckled bliss two seats over. All windows down to mediate the humidity in our air conditionless cruiser, and we're off. As we roll past construction I unwittingly mouth the lyrics to 'frog trouble' and buzz my window up to stop some of the dust from getting in. A humongous underpass is being built so drivers won't have to wait for the trains. It will take two years of unrelenting yellow metal drilling to complete this transformation. I turn up the volume. I'm belting it out now.

We're going to the big blue box to pick up a new stroller. I've been notified that it's ready this morning, and I'm not wasting any time in picking it up. Despite my strong aversion to getting excited about things for babies, I'm looking forward to this.
Once I park, I get my sweaty, rosy cheeked children secured on hip and hand and obediently call the number I was given to claim my item. (Three arms would be nice here.) The automatic doors save me from wishing for a fourth and woosh us into the cool relief of the store. I'm still on the phone and can now hear the music and store-wide announcements echoing through my speakers along with a helpful voice assuring me he'll be with us shortly.
We wait beyond the checkout area as instructed and watch the shoppers churn through with their new items. Jade stares in silent study of the operation, surely taking mental notes to up her game at home. Romi clutches me loosely but resolutely as we continue to wait.
Through the beeps and blue vests comes a man holding a box the size of a cat. He has a black moustache and brown skin and wears a slightly bemused expression. We say hello and successfully match who I say I am to the name on the box. Then we share our disbelief that the stroller - despite being called the 'mountain buggy mini' - could fit into the light box in his hands. I half-hope-half-joke that it could be a very compactly folded stroller and he gives me an apologetic look and suggests we find out. I set my baby down and crouch beside him, the box in the middle of us, now all four at the same eye level. I tear into the package, sure at this point that it could be a wheel or two at most.
I rip into the inevitable and reveal… a kitchen pot.
Not even a nice one.
We look at each other and he shakes his head, already apologizing and expressing his confusion. After wondering together for a while what could have caused this mix up, we come to the conclusion that things get mixed up sometimes. He swiftly cancels my order on his phone, and suggestapologizes that I order again. I redundantly ask how and he generously waits as I order exactly the way I'd done a few weeks ago.
Having a bit of a bargainer's heart I ask him if it's possible to have it shipped straight to my house this time for the trouble. He asks me how much that would be, apparently having a bit of a bargainer's heart himself, and I go through the prompts on my phone to input my address and see what kind of shipping refund I'm looking for after all. My girls stand quietly by my side, Romi clutching my skirt and Jade watching the pot, maybe waiting for it to turn into a stroller. The man's phone rings and he leans towards me, his bottom teeth, straight and close, showing as he speaks, and asks if he can 'take this call'. I'm surprised at the question but say of course, and go on completing my order beside him. After a minute or two of helping someone else, he ends his call and asks how I'm doing. I tell him that as it turns out, my order qualifies for free shipping and it must have all along. I won't have to come back. We smile at each other like we both got away with something and say goodbye.
I hoist my baby up on my hip and take my other daughter's hand. As we re-emerge into the heat of the parking lot I suggest to Jade that maybe we should have taken the pot after all and pushed Romi around in that. She gives me a chuckle and we get back to our hot and happy car, ready for more frog trouble.