Was the Disheveled Woman Trying To Kidnap My Children?
A failed attempt at seeing Christmas trees took a scary turn
The warm summer days stretch on for eternity while I’m raising my feral children alone in a town I’m still not familiar with. Almost immediately after moving to my husband’s hometown, he was sent across the country for work until October, leaving me to deal with the terrible twos times two.
Entertaining sassy-ass toddlers 24/7 is exhausting. It’s the worst when I try to dance along to their songs with them and my oldest shakes her head and says, “No, Mommy. Gross. Sit.”
She’s right. A 36-year-old doing an interpretive dance to “London Bridge Is Falling Down” is totally gross. Body slamming myself to the ground hurt my back too much anyway.
In an attempt to maintain what little sanity I have left, I try to get them out of the house as much as possible. There’s the giant indoor play place where I got stuck in the ball pit, which I’m convinced was actually quicksand, and then had to coax Joey out of the tunnel slide by waving cotton candy at the bottom.
There’s music class where Joey screamed at the top of her lungs while Kelsey tried to crawl into everyone’s laps and put her pacifier in their mouths during the welcome song. She really is very welcoming.
Target is always fun — until the cake pops run out. If you hear a kid screaming “MORE POP CAKES NOW!” feverishly in the store, then we shop at the same Target.
Today, I strapped my kids in their car seats without a plan, determined to explore our new city. On my drive, I saw a “going out of business” sign at the Christmas Tree Shop and thought what the hell, they’re going out of business so when my kid knocks over an entire bin of bouncy balls, at least this time I’ll never have to see these people again.
Plus, I thought maybe there might be some Christmas trees. Kids get excited about that kind of crap.
When we entered the store, my mouth turned to sandpaper as I nervously swallowed the fear that comes with the knowledge of a toddler tantrum looming. There wasn’t a damn Christmas tree in sight. Bah Humbug.
Thankfully, there were only about three people in the store to witness the meltdown that ensued due to the absence of trees.
I envisioned Bambi taking his first steps on the ice as I attempted to pick Joey up off the floor during her “I was promised Christmas trees” tantrum. I was just about to whisper that I’d buy Joey unlimited cake pops if she gave me a break from the public humiliation when a woman approached with an empty shopping cart.
“Your daughters are beautiful,” the woman said as snot from Joey’s nose misted the air like a refreshing morning dew.
“Seems like that one’s a little angry,” she continued.
I smiled the same fake smile I use when one feral child pulls the other one's diaper off at church and continued on our grand adventure.
Joey’s spirits perked up as she observed a section of the store with rows of empty shelves. “What’s this, Mommy? WOW! All gone!” She shouted at the naked shelves. As she shrieked, I heard a deep belly laugh from behind me followed by a gurgled cough.
I turned to see the same woman trailing close behind, again with her empty cart. I guess she enjoyed perusing the deserted section of the store as much as my two-year-old. I wondered if her cart was filled with invisible merchandise. Was she actually shopping in this aisle? I scanned the empty spaces, hoping I wasn’t missing a secret bargain.
At this point, the woman’s appearance finally registered to me. It’s easier to make observations when your kid isn’t steamrolling her way toward a cluster of giant floor vases.
The woman appeared to be in her late sixties. She wore the seasonal clothing version of a mullet. Summer on the top. Winter on the bottom.
The unique attire consisted of a spaghetti strap crop top and fleece pink pajama pants — a practical outfit to beat the summer heat yet also keep warm in the air conditioning.
Her hair was tangled in a bird’s nest on the side of her head and her eyes were red. I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt and say it was laundry day and her allergies were acting up but regardless, something was very off.
Of course, I know not to judge people by their appearance but her disheveled look combined with her strange demeanor started putting up red flags for me.
Since the building was roughly the size of a Walmart Superstore, I thought it would be easy to ditch the tag-along who seemed desperate to befriend my daughters. I quickly walked to the other end of the store, pushing Kelsey in the cart with Joey walking close by my side.
Soon, Joey discovered the cat toys and started stuffing them into the cart. Where ever did she get that idea from? I wondered without objecting.
“Uh-oh, looks like you need to buy her a pet,” a slightly slurred voice from behind me said. Again, the disheveled woman was there with her empty cart.
This time, she was asking questions: How old are my children? What are their favorite toys? Are they good at napping? What foods do they eat? Other weird things I didn’t answer but instead smiled politely and gave my attention to Kelsey who was starting to get antsy.
By the time I reached the toy aisle, the woman was waiting in front of the dolls. “I bet you like dolls,” she said to Joey. Joey started to run toward the stuffed animals as I followed close behind, not taking my eyes off her near this unwanted new friend.
And then it got even creepier.
“You’d better be careful. Someone here could snatch you up when Mommy’s not looking,” the woman said while staring at me. Then her bloodshot eyes followed my daughter, who was trying to get to the dolls the woman was blocking.
“Do you know about strangers?” A sinister smile spread slowly across her face as she presented Joey with a doll.
At that, I grabbed my daughter’s hand, mumbled about diaper changes, and got the hell out of there. Once safely in my car, I called the store manager and explained what happened with a description of the woman. It may have been over the top but I wanted to make sure they were aware of this weird situation.
As a parent, this experience was deeply unsettling. Not only did we not see Christmas trees, there may or may not have been someone doing early holiday shopping of her own, with my kids at the top of her wishlist.
Whether she had ill intentions or not, who the hell tells a stranger’s two-year-old that someone is going to take her away from her mom? I’m thankful Joey was far more concerned with a baby doll that poops out play dough than the woman hoping to fill her empty cart with someone else’s children.
Parents, keep your kids close. And if an older woman approaches you dressed in mullet attire with an unusual interest in your child’s nap schedule, ditch the cart filled with cat toys and run like hell.