The day I was an Aldi tragic

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We all love a good Aldi buy right?  And their bargains…guys…if you don’t know about their bargains, you should get yourself an Aldi catalogue and have a look for yourself.

They are A M A Z I N G.

Alas, I have never been much of a shopper, so I generally flip through their catalogues whenever I happen to have one of those hot little guys in my hands and think about how that would be nice but I’m not buying that.

Until last week….I heard word about a rocking chair.  Not only did I hear about it, I saw a picture, and I instantly knew, that chair and my behind were a match made in Heaven.  I immediately began to dream about the late nights and early mornings that we would spend together while I fed our soon to arrive baby.  I dreamed of the times I would probably fall asleep with my boob out, baby on my lap and drool pouring out my mouth, and I fantasized about all the other things I could do on it, like read books, daydream and rock till my hearts content.

We were going to have a glorious thing going on.  Not only that, but I have longed and silently hoped for a nice rocking chair I could sit in and feed in after being pregnant or breastfeeding for almost six years.  Those late night and early morning feeds have been a complete jerk to my back and neck slouching up in bed, and finally my window of opportunity had come.

Not only that but it was $199.  I researched everywhere being the bum stinge that I am how much this chair was elsewhere.  The next cheapest was three times the price at Ikea and then upwards from there. I was completely sold.

So I planned, I budgeted, and I recruited my Mum to help me when the sale day arrived.  The conditions were perfect, the stars must have aligned or something crazy, and the morning my soon to be chair friend went on sale finally arrived.

Aldi opens at 8:30 so we braved the white and crunchy frost outside and headed out the door at 7:20 to make sure we were in for a good chance.  We drove the 30ish kms to our closest Aldi store and to my deepest pleasure we were second in line – absolutely in for a good chance, I was hopeful.

Soon we were pushed third in line when the first person in line’s friend arrived but we made friends.  It was very civil.  We all talked about how much we would like to have that chair.  By 8:25 the sun was starting to warm our shivering bodies after sacrificing our body heat for this blissful chair, and there was a line up of people well and truly spreading across the road in the parking lot.

Then finally…

The doors opened.  My heart beat a little faster…I have never done this before.  Infact this whole thing is far from who I am. What were these people like anyway?  Were they savage like the ones you see on TV at the Boxing Day sales?  Was my Mum and I going to be stampeded and left squished and flat on the ground?  We started walking…faster and faster towards the middle aisle.  I saw on my left a tiny, white haired grandma overtake me.  She walked way faster than I have ever seen someone of her stature walk.  So I upped my pregnant waddle and waddled as fast as I could to where my backside’s soulmate was nestled.

And then I saw it…the first lady in line was hauling the first chair into her trolley.  The box was enormous and heavy…it didn’t even fit in the trolley.  I waited right next to her while the tiny grandma stood on her other side, and the line of a dozen more people behind her desperately watching the scene play out.

She pounced on the second and last chair (yes, they only had two on the floor!) and said, “This is for my friend! She was here first!”  I stood back, while her friend came forward, grabbed it, and said, “I’m giving this to the pregnant lady!”  I looked up at the line of silent people watching and waiting…one lady was fighting back tears…I couldn’t watch.  The first ladies’ friend dragged the giant box over to me and handed it over.  I thanked her from the bottom of my heart  while my Mum tried every move her body had within, to try and get it into the trolley…it didn’t work.  So she decided to push the giant box down the aisle and to the car.  It was a pretty funny sight.  I continued to shop for my Aldi necessaries feeling awful and slightly traumatised about the whole scenario.

Outside, a lovely man offered to help Mum haul the chair to our car and attempt to get it inside the boot.

It didn’t fit.

I was trying to think of some genius ideas to make it work…should we strap it to the roof? Do I sit there all day on the box and wait for my husband to pick me up after work that evening?  Heck, I’ll push it 30kms down the highway, but I’m not leaving that blasted chair behind.

Then, geniuseness hit.  Let’s take it out of the box.  We did.  It fit.  But now we were left with a giant empty box that didn’t even fit in the bin.  No worries, another man walked past while we were debating this and told us to go put it in his ute…he wanted to use it.  Brilliant.  Chair in car – check.  Box gone – check.  Dignity in tact – not really sure.  Glad it’s over – check.  Slightly traumatised – check, check, check.

Never doing that again – check.

So here’s to the generosity of strangers…you made my dreams of having a rocking, feeding chair come true after six years and I’m forever grateful.

Of course honour moment to my Mum, who was not in her element at all, but totally lay down her everything and showed that Mums will surely do anything for their babies.

And thanks Aldi, for your great specials and for hosting me as an Aldi tragic for the morning…Cheers.

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