This is how I post when Dean keeps me awake all night

I will start by telling you that I have some kind of bizarre thing going on under my wedding ring. I don't know what has happened, but the skin is raw, almost like it's been burned. Marcus is certain I have a chemical burn from using too many Clorox wipes. Maybe so. It's better than it was, but still hurts a lot. The annoying part has been not being able to wear my ring. I finally just put a bunch of lotion on my finger and put the ring back on today. So there.

So, we grocery shop at Publix. I love it. It's a nice store and you can find whatever you need. They carry the right kind of baby food (Dean's a fan of some of the Beech-nut flavors) and my yogurt (soy, because I"m lactarded. It's not nearly as gross as it sounds.) My favorite thing they do is offer a penny mystery coupon in Sunday's paper. You clip it, bring it in and then find out what the mystery item is that you get for a penny! Last week it was Pringles chips. This week it was peanut butter. I didn't really need either of those items, but you better believe I grabbed them up for a penny! Ok, I digress. The one thing I don't care for as a part of my Publix shopping experience is the freaky, over-zealous baggers. Sometimes they are fine. Other times, like today, they are waaaay over the top. I suppose it's the store's policy to have the baggers bag your groceries (duh), then push your buggy to your car and load them up for you. They wear buttons saying "Don't tip." I always feel bad not giving them a dollar or something. Marcus HATES this practice. He likes to bag and carry the groceries so they will be easier to unload when we get home. He says the baggers make him feel unimportant and like his job has been taken away. I think he's being over-emotional about it, but who am I to judge, right? MY problem is that sometimes, the bagger finishes loading the buggy then just takes off to the parking lot WITH MY BABY IN THE BUGGY. Today, for instance, an older woman was my bagger. Y'all, I had 9 jars of baby food and some parmesan cheese. It all fit intot one bag. I was planning to push the buggy to the "lobby," take Dean and my bag out and walk to the car. She threw my one bag into the buggy and proceeded to take off with my buggy, bag and BABY. And I went all New York crazy in the Publix. (This is what all those years of "if you see something, say something" does to you. And it's not a bad thing!) I, quite loudly, screamed, "HEY!" She looked shocked. I noted my tone, smiled a little and said "I can get it." She said "No, ma'am! I'll take it for you!" and took off again. I ran up beside her, muttered something about wanting to stay near my baby and put a hand on the buggy, gripping it so hard my knuckle was white. Dean is fine with these people, who are always lovely, pushing him in the cart. And, truth be told, I very seriously doubt the Publix bagger is just going to take off with my kid, and even if they did, I"ll bet I could catch them, considering they'd almost certainly be slowed down by the weight of my groceries and my 20 pound child. I just wish they would at least ask "Ma'am, can I push your baby?" instead of taking off and giving me a heart attack.

Perhaps I'm over-reacting and this is just one of those small-town things I'm going to have to get used to again. Marcus is amazed by the number of people who come up in stores and restaurants to touch Dean. That doesn't bug me. What do you think? Would the baby in the buggy with the bagger thing freak you out?