Two weeks ago, I was pushing my cart towards the exit doors at Kroger. With one arm, I fumbled through my purse for my keys. With the other, I slowly steered the cart. Just as I had my keys in hand and was ready to pick back up my speed, I heard a voice.
“Excuse me, miss,” a man near the door said. Begrudgingly, I looked over. I imagine I was wearing a wonderful shade of Resting B-face. I knew my nap time window was closing and I needed to keep moving to stay on schedule.