DH's grandparents left this morning. I was sad to see them go, because this was probably the only time they will ever make it out here. Papa Sam is 80 and Nese is just a few years younger. I am in awe that he managed to drive over a thousand miles one-way just to see us. And we weren't even their only stop! From here they were on their way to Jonesboro, Arkansas to visit more family before heading back to Texas. Amazing.

Oh, and Papa Sam also mowed the lawn for DH on Monday. Wouldn't it have been nice if that energy had been passed down a couple generations?

I felt bad because Sawyer wouldn't give them hugs goodbye. He was ranting about wanting the 'CROWNS' and was completely fixated on it. He did wave and blow kisses when they drove away, which made my eyes well up.

Shortly after they left, the Comcast repairman showed up. We've been having problems with channels going out the past few days. And I shouldn't say repairman, because there were actually three repairmen. The best part? They brought three men in just to tell me the cable going into the back of the box was loose. A couple righty-tighties and it was fixed. Yeah, I felt stupid.

As they were leaving, Sawyer ran to the door and bellowed out, "I'll miss you!" and started blowing kisses. Only 10am and already the boy ain't right.

Tonight, I got the bright idea to run to Wal-Mart for some cording to finish a drawstring backpack I made for Sawyer. I made it for him to use as a Halloween goodie bag, so the fabric matches his grizzly bear costume. It is adorable and all I needed to finish it was three yards of this stupid cording.

Normally I avoid Wal-Mart at all costs, but it's closer and cheaper than JoAnn's if I'm not buying fabric. Although tonight I'm sure I would have actually gotten home sooner if I'd just driven the extra distance to JoAnn's.

It's always a given that I'll have to stand around awhile waiting for an employee to come cut. Tonight was no different, and there was a woman ahead of me so I got to wait even longer. She and the employee bickered about whether the collegiate fleece she was buying was to be sold by the yard or by the panel. After what seemed like hours of scrutinizing the end of the bolt, she declared that the price was per panel (which I could have told her because, duh, if it comes in a panel, it is sold by the panel).

After that ordeal, she spent quite a bit of time making sure the fleece was rolled up just so, secured with multiple rubber bands and back on the shelf before assisting me. Apparently it would have been out of the question to help customers first. Whatever. She meticulously measured out three yards of my cord in slow motion. Every single employee I have ever encountered in their fabric department does this so severely that I'm beginning to wonder if they are trained in being so damn slow. I could have cut it myself, printed out the ticket and been to the checkout in the time it took her to cut a single piece.

The next 20 minutes (and no, I'm not exaggerating) consisted of her leaving to hunt for Scotch tape to secure the ends of the cording, rolling each color back up and securing it on the roll before moving to the next piece, realizing the printer was out of paper and calling for back-up. The manager that came then spent another 20 minutes putting the paper in upside down, stabbing at the machine with scissors trying to open the lid, watching me pop it open easily in two seconds, printing the receipt out on half a sticker and ringing my order up three more times trying to get it to print correctly before I just grabbed my stuff and stormed off, telling them I'd figure the rest out myself. In Slow Motion, because that is the Wal-Mart mission statement.

Now, I consider myself to be of average intelligence. I have never worked at Wal-Mart, or anything similar, in my life. And yet, I was doing their job better than they were. You know, I try not to perpetuate stereotypes but this one is like shooting fish in a barrel.

And of course, as I always do, I chose the check-out lane that seemed short with only one cart ahead of me but was actually four guys with their things all in one cart. Meaning four separate orders and payments. By the time I left, I had been there over an hour just to purchase some cording and nursing pads.

We had been intending to put Beckett to bed at 8pm and by this time it was 8:20. As I sped home I envisioned myself getting pulled over for speeding and explaining to the officer that it wasn't my fault because I had just been assaulting by a handful of lobotomy patients at Wal-Mart. And he totally would have understood and let me go with a warning.