You all know how much I love to hate WalMart.  Going into Walmart makes my IQ jump from the 50% percentile up to the 89%.  Just by walking through those blue doors.  I know I've crossed into the store when the Walmart Greeter attacks my children by handing them poisonous stickers, processed in China with lead ink- which they will decorate their bodies with at the earliest opportunity.  Walmart is such a simple pleasure really.  Where else can you buy a gun bag and a gallon of milk in one building?  Now, one of the best things about Wal-Mart is the cliental.  I think, much of the time, you can spot just about all walks of life in those aisles.  Today though, I found somewhere better for people watching.  Yes, BETTER than Wal-Mart.  

Let me direct your attention to the Theme Park known as Busch Gardens.  Its truly a mecca of people watchability.  You've got the "tourists", "locals", "responsible adults", "reckless teenagers", all piled into one location- where mirrors are few and far between, and fashion takes a back seat to comfort.  It is sort of a train wreck, and no matter the situation, you're bound to find yourself in the middle of the wreck at some point.  It's the one place that you're 1/2 afraid to run into someone you know because there's a likelihood that when you see them, you'll be windblown, smudged and tired.  By the end of the day everyone trudges around the park wearing the same expression of utter exhaustion layered in sunscreen while dutifully expressing in flat voices that they are "having fun."  

Naturally, I ran into 1/2 my neighborhood today.  Seriously.  All the kids (save 2) who go to our bus stop were at BG today.  Which meant I ran into them & their parents at one point or another during the day, in a completely unplanned rendezvous.  I hate that.  It's as bad as running into them at Walmart w/o makeup and a screaming infant.  Oh, wait, that was me, at BG, with a pooplosion of epic proportion, so I'm pinning down a fussing B, who's now covered in mulch- I swear it was ONLY MULCH, only to hear a rather desperate emergency potty break request from G and what do I hear, "g?  Is that you!  What a surprise."  After a .04 second survey of the situation, "are you OK?  Do you need help?"  Well yes, I'm bloody fine, OK.  I AM FINE.  I can take my kids to a theme park by myself with no help from you, thank you very much.... oh, I mean, "I'm very well, thank you for asking."  It all worked out in the end.  G was taken potty by a SDD in our party, B finally settled down and allowed a new diaper application, and the school friends, well they left most likely thinking what everyone at the Theme Park thinks...  "I'm glad I don't look like her."

Oh, and for those of you who have read SLUMMY MUMMY, I spent today with the best looking SDD ever.  Of course, in true "slummy mummy" fashion, he's now seen me covered in poop, mulch, a screaming toddler and no makeup.  I'm sure he was impressed.