Hurry, hurry. Must hurry up. In and out. Grab the plastic cups, paper napkins, no sidetracks, no impulse shopping, pray I don’t run into anyone I know…oh dear, there’s Amy from playgroup in the produce section. Turn around, quick. No time for chatting, must be back before the first kid arrives.
Party supplies, party supplies…oh Isle 9. What’s the time? Far out, 10 minutes till party time.
Why’d I have to forget something? I’ve been preparing all weekend. The race car-themed food is ready, bouncy castle inflated, lightning Mcqueen cake masterfully created, baking disaster overcome, house fire averted, house decorated and cleaned 20 times, but of course I forgot something.
Heart racing, it’s good cardio at least. Plastic cups, plastic cups. How many do I need? Quick head count, don’t forget adults…29, 30, 31. Ok, cups come in packs of 25. Crap, there’s only one pack of small cups. There’s extra large cups? I don’t want 30 odd half drunk cups of fizzy drink lying around the house, what a waste. Ok, one pack of small cups, one pack of extra large, kids drinks on one table, adults on the other. Quick, get the napkins.
Blue, green, yellow, white, which will work best with my theme? White is so plain and boring. The coloured ones aren’t cheap though, 5 bucks for 50. I’ve spent way too much on this party already, don’t even know if there’s grocery money till next pay day. Better get the cheap white ones, 250 for $2. Done, gotta get out of here.
Crap, it’s Amy again. Quick, turn around, maybe she won’t see me, just get to the checkout.
Who’s shouting? What’s that red stool doing there? Oh bugger, no room for my foot, this is gonna hurt.
Holy hell, that hurts way more than I expected. Why am I crying? Stop crying. You big baby, it was just a little fall, get up. Everyone is staring. For goodness sake, stop crying. “Shiiiiiiii…….” wait, don’t swear, don’t swear, I think that’s Bree from church. Why can’t I move my arm? Get off the floor, your not an invalid.
“Are you ok?”
Who’s that? There in uniform, they must work here. Probably worried about insurance. I’m not the suing kind though.
“You want me to call someone or an ambulance?”
Ambulance? Why the heck would I want an ambulance? Is that blood? Oh God, I don’t feel well. Is that a bone? Crap, everything is getting dark, I think I’m going to throw up.
“Jen, do you want me to call Tim?” Oh there’s Amy, I’m glad she’s here now. Tim? Who’s Tim? Oh my husband Tim.
“Yes please.” Must lay down before I hit my head. “He’ll need to come and get the cups and napkins.” I’ll just close my eyes for a sec. What about the party? Have I ruined the party? Stupid Jen, poor Brayden, way to turn 5.