Not So Smooth Criminal

So as of a few days ago we have a new fish. He is smaller, cuter, and livelier. The kids decided that since it is Dear Sir's birthday on Monday they would give him the gift of naming the fish. It was going to be a surprise, but Dear Sir could not handle the idea that no one could decide on a name. He was chomping at the bit. We were all feigning fish naming block. So finally this morning the kids told him (after his trying to suggest names for the fish).

The name: Tolstoy.

He was juggling Melville and Tolstoy.

The fish is already sick because the filter is not working. After church today we went to the petstore to get a new filter. I had to stop at Walmart to get a gameboy recharger because that broke (everything breaks) and while I was at it I got Dear Sir a CD/DVD of Coldplay. I was really upset because I forgot my wallet at home and I had to use Dear Sir's credit card. I got to the check out and they treated me like a criminal.

"I'm sorry, but the signatures don't match and the system won't accept it," the clerk says to me.

"It is my husband's card. Oh, you would like to see my ID? Well, the reason why I am using his card is because I left my wallet at home on accident and so therefore I don't have my own card or ID. See?"

"I'm sorry. I will get the manager."

She rings the manager. The manager comes over, looks at me, takes the card and after everything is explained to her she says very seriously and also very loud so others outside of our circle of privacy can hear, "I need a signed document by this cardholder or a power of attorney to allow you to use this card!" She waves the card in my face.

I look at my husband's wallet that is in my hand. I feel like a criminal.

"Oh," I say. "He is in the car, I guess I will get him. Can you keep the stuff here while I get him?"

"Uh, yeah, just let me cancel this and then when he gets here he can make the purchase."

I walk out to the car---way in the back of the massive parking lot. I make Dear Sir roll his window down. He winces as the sun gets in his eyes. "What."

"They won't let me use your card," I say. I feel like crying at this point because I have not eaten, I drank too much coffee this morning, and I feel like a criminal. Plus, I feel dumb for leaving my wallet at home. "So you have to go in there and get the stuff I was buying. I bought you something, which makes it worse, and I don't want you to see it...all you have to do is go to register 34---right when you walk in---and the stuff should still be in the bag--" I wave at Walmart helplessly and hand him his wallet.

He reluctantly gets out of the car and goes to wretched, detestable Walmart. I hate Walmart.

Finally he comes back and hands me the bag. I hope that he has not seen the present I got him.

"I saw the CD," he says. "They pulled everything out in front of me and re-rang it all. I couldn't help it, ok?"

He didn't even say thanks. I guess that is because he bought it anyway, right? Don't blame him. How crummy.