Meijer

Dear Meijer Executives,
My name is Sherri Baughman. You should know me. I spend entirely too much time and money in your store for you to not recognize me. And your greeter, Virgil? He knows me well enough to insist on a hug as I enter. I am not complaining. He's a sweet old man. I visited him last night and by visit, I mean ran away for forty minutes. If you would allow me to share with you what led me to your store for my mommy time out yesterday, I won't take up too much of your time.

You see I have five children. Three of them are self sufficient and independent. One is well on her way to joining her older sisters. One is certain he is big enough to rule the world but he is only four and believes climbing the dresser "until he's as big as Grandpa" is reasonable. He requires constant supervision. On top of that, several other little people hang out with me on a part time basis.

Some days, look like this and I enjoy this overall but when the "independent" people in my house return from their daily adventures, I tend to loose my mind. One of my teens came home with her boyfriend yesterday afternoon in tears. This happens regularly. But she is "in love". The art of not rolling my eyes is something I have failed to master at this point which feeds some drama. Another came home from school crying because she has no friends. She is the same kid who hosted a houseful of girls all.weekend.long. I fed an army this weekend. It's unfortunate none of them are friends. While navigating those tears, a neighbor knocked on the door to invite my younger two children to Miss Kibble's funeral. Miss Kibbles was a guinea pig. She was only around these parts a few weeks but apparently made quite an impression on the hearts of those who knew her because when I expressed my condolences, the owner shrugged and let me know it was okay because they'd be getting a new one this weekend and naming it Furby. Easy come easy go. I was grateful for the comic relief. During our discussion, my son who has recently discovered the awesome movie, Monster's University was practicing his scare techniques in the bedroom where his father was attempting to sleep before work. Let's just say his father was not as impressed with the scratching on the bed followed by a very loud roar as his son.  Just as my husband stumbled into the kitchen, I pressed the "coffee now" button for him and turned in time to greet my oldest daughter as she walked in from work. She also had a story to tell. You see, someone is targeting Subway stores and robbing them at gunpoint. He's hit three stores in two days. My daughter seems to think she can talk this man out of robbing her if he happens to show up at her Subway. So if you would like to follow up with me, you will be able to find me there. I am now camping out at Subway during my daughter's shifts.

Anyway, I didn't intend to consume so much of your time with my little letter; although it does seem only fair that you take the time to read it in exchange for all the time I spend standing in your check out lanes. The point to my note is to request you install a real Mommy time out in your store. As much as the mommies there with screaming toddlers need it, this location needs to be preserved for the moms who've broken out without their children. We need a place to hide. We really do. The grocery store is a safe refuge because no one appears to catch on if we return with food. Personal shoppers and a tea shop could be provided so we'd frequent your store even more often. Only moms would know about this sanctuary but believe me when I say it will be a huge success. Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,
Sherri Baughman