I keep meaning to blog this…. A few weeks ago I made my first trip to the local Blockbuster to return some DVDs we got from our online account and to get some new in-store DVDs. According to our online agreement, we are entitled to 2 (or maybe 4?) in -store DVD rentals for free each month, and that’s at any store in the country. So, I decide to make sure Kendall is nice and full, leave him with Scott, and get out of the house ALL BY MYSELF!! It was so liberating.
I get to Blockbuster and discover that there is a problem with getting our free DVDs since I don’t have a TX driver’s license yet. The guy tells me he can’t open an account for me there without an in-state license, but he may be able to go off our old account info for VA. It ends up being a huge ordeal and I have to call Scott to get our old Blockbuster account number. I had not been gone from home for more than 10 minutes, but what do I hear on the other end of the line? My WAILING son. Not only did I hear him, but everyone withing a 5 foot radius of my phone did too. He sounded like he was being hung from his toes. Scott assured me he was not being abused or neglected in any manner. It made my blood pressure rise immediately and the situation got that much more stressful. It was already a damn epic event to leave the house, now the Blockbuster guy wanted me to go get a TX driver’s license…. like… THAT DAY, and I can’t hear a thing Scott is saying because of Kendall’s screams.
I finally get off the phone with Scott with the information and tell the Blockbuster guy, “Listen. I’m not upset with you. I know it’s the rules, but there is no way in hell I can get my new driver’s license any time soon. As you can see, getting here was a freaking act of God. Can I just give you my VA info?”
All of the sudden the Blockbuster guy’s tone and attitude completely changed. He went from annoyingly insistent that he get the most up to date documentation from me, including a license I did not have and could not get, to telling me in a very hushed and fast manner, “You know what, don’t worry about it. Just go. We’ll take care of you next time.” Well, I had just spent all this time on the phone with Scott screaming out the info so I said, “No. It’s fine. I have the VA info now. Let’s just go with that.” “REALLY. It’s FINE. Just GO…M’am.” He insisted. Uhhmmm…..Okay.
I get in the car and make it about 5 minutes down the road when I start to notice something doesn’t feel right….something about my boobs… my shirt…. it’s wet…. I’m soaked! At the sound of my screaming son, I have lactated right through my milk-logged breastpads and all over the front of myself. No wonder he wanted to get me out of there stat. He was probably afraid I would start dripping all over the counter. Lovely.
11 weeks old (although this happened when Kendall was a little over 8 weeks old).