Watch Your Words

Beit Shemesh is officially on the map! We have a new shopping center with a new supermarket! Yes! OMG have I become that pathetic? YES! As you may know, the kids and I love an adventure, so after promising them for four days in a row that I would take them and then bailing on them at the last minute for various reasons, I finally took them on a Thursday night.

As we got in the car, I gave them a very explicit warning: “If the lines are too long, I’m not buying anything tonight. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” Yeah, sure, whatever the crazy lady says. I repeated this warning several times, just to prepare them so they wouldn’t get their hopes up when they saw all the exciting new food they likely wouldn’t be getting.

Why would I give such a weird warning? Thursday nights at the supermarket are like Saturday nights at the hottest clubs on South Beach. Both have bouncers at the door, and they’re so packed, you can barely move. At least no one’s blowing cigarette smoke in your face inside the supermarket. That only happens outside, by the entrance. I’m serious.

As you can imagine, new market + Thursday night = absolute chaos. People were throwing things into their carts like Planet X was about to hit (I’m still waiting,) and no one was being polite, to put it mildly. My little one, who’s almost three, refused so sit in the chair of the shopping cart. What do I think he is, a baby??

Since we don’t get out of Bet Shemesh more than, like, twice a year, for my kids this is the equivalent of going to Disney World. I just keep sounding more pathetic, don’t I. They were running up and down the aisles, bringing me whatever struck their fancy, such as beer, rugelach, and wasabi-coated peas, and asking me to buy it for them. I, on the other hand, was trying to focus on matching up the prices to the actual items, since it’s a phenomenon here that no item is in the spot on the shelf where the price for it is. God forbid there is an actual price on the item itself. That’s a hit or miss.

About two minutes into our supermarket sweep, I caved in and started putting things into the cart. Once my kids saw that, it was all over. They dragged me to the cheese section and made me wait 20 minutes to order them a few slices of cheese that I buy anyways from the package. Then one kid dropped the entire container of baby mozzarella balls all over the floor, and I had to wait another 10 minutes to get a new container.

By the time we reached the insanity at the checkout, nearly an hour had passed. I was stressing about what time we would finally get home, as I hadn’t made dinner yet because I had been busy cooking for Shabbat all day. The line ahead of me looked like it would take at least another 30 minutes until I would get out of there.

In the meantime, the kids had eaten most of the sliced cheese that I got them, and were starting to whine because we were just standing in line instead of flying through the aisles like a bunch of shopping fairies with unlimited bank accounts.

For some reason, I had to look for something in my purse, so I began fumbling around for whatever I was looking for. Now my purse is ridiculously oversized to begin with, and it’s not overflowing with receipts and lipsticks. The only things in my humongous purse are my wallet, phone, workout gloves, keys, checkbook, and, of course, lipstick. And lip gloss.

So I’m feeling around for some mysterious item, and my purse feels strangely empty to me. That’s odd. I look inside and keep swishing my hand around, wondering with a vague sense of wonderment why my hand isn’t coming into contact with a large rectangular object that would otherwise be known as *gasp* MY WALLET!!

“MY WALLET! MY WALLET! WHERE IS MY WALLET?!!” I started screaming in hysteria. The kids just gave me a wide-eyed, blank stare. Or maybe they were staring at me because they couldn’t understand why Hashem gave them such a wonderful, calm, even-tempered, level-headed, soft-spoken mother. What can I say – they got lucky.

I sent my two older ones to the car. Maybe it had fallen on the floor. No such luck. Now I was in a major dilemma. We had already opened a few items, and I had no way of paying for them. I looked at the sea of people and shopping carts that separated me from the “customer service” desk. I started having palpitations at the thought of having to make my way to the other side of the store.

So we winded our way through the store like we were wandering through a labyrinth. Oy, until we made it over to the “Customer Service” desk. I was sweating profusely. Oy, until I got to explain my problem to the first “Customer Service” lady. She listened to my dilemma and turned around to “help” other customers. Oy, until I got to explain my problem to the second “Customer Service” lady. She listened to my dilemma and disappeared for ten minutes, and then came back without an answer – and began “helping” other customers.

Finally, the manager of the store appeared like Eliyahu Hanavi. I told him the whole story, and offered to pay with the credit card numbers that I know like the lines on my face. He appreciated my offer, and then told me it was totally illegal for him to do that. Totally fed up, I gave him my final offer: “I am leaving with a few items, and here is the list of items with their prices, and here is my phone number. I’ll be back tomorrow to pay for it.”

“No problem,” he smiled. Only in Israel.

On the way home, I kept saying, “I hope my wallet is home.” I must have said it 40 times.

Suddenly, my little boyfriend that can do no wrong piped up, “I did it!”

I turned around to face him while still driving: “You took my wallet out of my purse? Where is it?!”

“The floor,” he answered, giving me that irresistible smile that showed me he knew he did something very, very wrong.

“No, no, no!” I started shaking my index finger at him, which he found hysterical. Me – not so much. I punished him by giving him extra kisses on his fat little cheeks when we got home, which he promptly wiped off with his shirt.

When I had time to think, the not-so-humorous irony struck me. Did I not explicitly say: “I AM NOT BUYING A THING TONIGHT IF IT’S TOO BUSY”? And isn’t that exactly what happened?

Words have tremendous power. That’s why we should choose our words very, very carefully. If only I could actually stop and think before I speak. This is especially true when we’re dealing with our spouses and children. They are the ones we take for granted the most, and they are likely the ones that we are the least careful in speaking with.

Let’s focus on using words of positivity, love, and tolerance when speaking with others. I bet that just changing this one action will bring so much happiness into our days. It will create a cycle of positive sharing between ourselves and others, and this positive energy spills over into all areas of our lives and the lives of those around us. Peace, love, and harmony, yo.

I just realized something. Isn’t there a famous phrase in Judaism that goes something like, “A tzaddik decrees and Hashem fulfills”? Hmmm. Maybe that could be the real reason this whole fiasco happened. Maybe not.