All we needed was toilet paper and pink socks.
Thursday I noticed that the mackerdoodle’s socks were dangling from her feet like small, purple, toe eating parasites and her heels were red with chill and exposure (or embarrassment at their exposure) . When I pulled them up I realized that the rounded portion of her sock intended to cover said exposed heels was in fact sitting right in the center of her sole. It was time to move up the sock ladder.
So Friday morning found us doing a WalMart run. All we needed was toilet paper and pink socks (the mackerdoodle had specifically requested the color pink) so we made a bee line for the infant/toddler section knowing we would pass the toilet paper on the way. As has been the case with WalMart lately, the selection was pitiful. In fact there were only two bags of age 3 to 5 girls’ socks. I don’t mean two brands, or two types; I mean two bags total, not counting the bag on the very bottom of the shelf that had been torn open and was missing two pairs. One bag was six socks for $5.00 and the second was ten socks for $6.50. As both bags contained only pink socks, it was a no-brainer. We grabbed our bag of ten socks and headed for the express checkout.
The Angel Soft toilet paper was $5 for 12 rolls so you can imagine surprise when my total came to less than seven dollars. I’m not so good with the math thing, but even I know that $5 + $6.50 + tax should equal more than seven dollars. I looked at the read out and saw that the socks rang up at $1.00. My gut reaction was to swipe my debit card and grab my bag of socks and run; but I couldn’t let it go. I asked the cashier if the socks had rung up at the correct price. She looked at me, and looked at the receipt and when she realized that I was asking to pay more than the item had scanned, she was a little stumped. She called over a manager who looked at the socks, looked annoyed and said:
“Did you scan it? Then that’s what it costs.”
The cashier looked at me after her manager walked away, while I swiped my card through the machine to pay for my dollar bag of socks.
“Maybe you should buy a lottery ticket. Today you’re a lucky woman.”
I smiled and said, tritely, “I’m blessed of God.”
The thing is we’ve got a tight budget, but $6.50 won’t break it. We could have afforded the socks. We just didn’t have to. God still sovereignly provides – even in Wal Mart.