Overheard: Shopping at the Dollar General
*****a little moment from a summer before QUAR (from the archives)**
She was looking through the baby onesies, scooting the tiny suits along the metal bar if they didn’t strike her fancy and pulling the ones which did.
A sun smiling wearing sunglasses, its embroidered rays extending out in wavy lines.
A ladybug wearing a hat.
A little suit that said, “What part of take me to grandma’s do you not understand?”
Light pinks and baby blues, an occasional plain white or yellow—in the middle of the summer cookout section at Dollar General.
A tall thin man came in wearing a cornflower blue work shirt. She walked over to him, placing her hands on the racks she passed to steady herself.
“See if you can see these sizes,” she said, “We need them to be 3-6 months.” As she held them up in the middle of the aisle, he read the tiny blue print off the clear plastic hanger,
“3-6 months, 3-6 months, 3-6 months,” he read in a low, calm voice. Maybe she had held so many babies she could eyeball the size without needing to read it? “0-3 months,” he continued.
“No, we don’t want that,” she said.
“Hey,” said a lady in the checkout line. “Hey, Mrs. Barbara.”
“Hey,” said Mrs. Barbara vaguely, turning slightly to see who it was.
“Are you feeling okay,” said the lady.
“Yeah, I’m getting along.”
“Do you know who I am?” said the woman in the checkout.
“I can’t see you too good from here.”
“I’m Charlene,” she said, “Gerald’s girl.”
“Oh sure,” said Mrs. Barbara politely.
“I see your granddaughter down at the CVS,” said Gerald’s girl. “She does a right good job down there.”
“Yes, she’s a good girl. We just had another grand baby born. A girl. That makes 5 grand babies and 5 girls. We’re real tickled about it.”
“Well. . . that’s nice. Congratulations. I’m glad I got to see you,” said the lady. “Take care, Mrs. Barbara.”
The tall man directed me around him and Mrs. Barbara by rolling his eyes to the ceiling and motioning right with his head. He was still reading out sizes when I left.