Soon this would all be over, and I could go home where I would never have to look at an angry store clerk again. I survived thus far, with minimal personal damage, and no one had called the manager yet. Little did I know that this was far from finished. I still had to pay for the food and the thought of making smalltalk with the cashier unleashed a fear within me that paled any monster in the closet or spider lurking in my sheets. The thought of that five second social interaction turned my stomach into a swarm of hornets. I began to shakily put the contents of my cart onto the conveyor belt. I did not care about making sure that the bread was not next to the milk so it did not get crushed; I just wanted to get out as quickly as possible. My desperate hope was that I would be too short for the cashier to notice me, and she would just take the money and not say a word. This was my next mistake. I should not have thought of money just then because another thought pierced into me: what if mom did not give me enough money? With each shrill beep of the scanner, I watched the numbers climb higher and higher. Fixated on the register, I barely even noticed when the stone cracked my glass house and my world exploded with six simple words. “Hello, sweetie, how are you today?” This was it. This was going to be the end of me. Surely, I was going to die of a heart attack right here in the middle of the Community Mart. The cashier raised her eyes …show more content…
As Mom and I restocked the pantry, I could not help but beam with pride. The army ant had come home victorious. I could hear my mom rifling through the bags, an angry swish of plastic followed by a deep sigh and a bang. “What bag is the peanut butter in?” she asked me. I froze. My stomach went cold. My knees were replaced with water balloons. “Peanut butter?” I asked. She whirled around and narrowed her eyes. “Yes, the peanut butter. It was on the list.” Peanut butter. I did not see peanut butter. Was there peanut butter? Oh, god please tell me there was not peanut butter, and that my poor mother is just going crazy. She gestured to my pocket and I handed her the hastily-scrawled list. She flipped it over and held her thumb to a word scribbled on the back. Peanut butter. “See?” The water balloons popped and I grabbed into the fridge for support. There was a back of the list. I had not even bothered to check and see if there was a back of the list! Mom set the list down and continued placing things on the shelves. “It’s fine, I’ll just pick some up tomorrow on my way to work,” she told me. My shoulders finally relaxed. There must be a heaven on this earth where forgetting the peanut butter is just