Going to Lucky’s grocery store was always an adventure with Mom. Some adventures were better than others. It was like going to the store with a bratty 10 year old being told they can get whatever they want. “Just throw it in the cart Corinne.”

Two particular times still reside in the corner of my minds.

1. When Mom had foot surgery and Crissie and I were required to push her in her wheelchair along with two shopping carts through the aisles of Lucky’s. As we pushed Mom in her throne with her hobbled feet through the aisles she would bark orders at us telling us what to throw in the two carts.
2. The other time was when some runaway rolling carts hit Mom and she fell to the concrete outside of Lucky’s. Personally, I think she saw an opportunity and threw herself to the ground, but either way she writhed on the ground and insisted an ambulance be called and take her to the hospital for her alleged injuries. I walked home refusing to go to the hospital with her. Mom eventually received a settlement from Lucky’s for 60k. One of her many lawsuits that gave us a good pay day and trip to Europe. “Corinne, sometimes we are in the chips, sometimes we’re not.”

Anyways, the trips often looked like this:

“Get in the car Corinne, we need groceries.”

Mom and I would be cruising in her big silver Cadillac Coupe DeVille. Mom with her seat as close to the steering wheel as possible to accommodate her 5 foot frame. She had both hands on the wheel while holding a Tab soda in one and a cigarette in the other. Her Albterol inhaler on her lap. The gold bracelets would dangle on her wrist along with the hospital band she hadn’t cut off yet. She liked to keep them on as long as she could. She wore her white jeans, sparkly pink top and pristine white Reebok tennies. One foot on the gas and the other on the brake. I sat on top of the center console in-between the seats, shoulder to shoulder with Mom. My dark hair falling past my shoulders. I wore my school uniform a black skirt and white polo style top that said “Christ Lutheran Lancers.”

Englebert Humperdinck’s song “Release me” would often be playing. One of her favorite songs. I would tell her about my day at school and interaction with the lunch aid. “Corinne You never have to eat anything you don’t want to. That woman’s brain is in her ass. I’ll be at your school tomorrow to let them know

The air conditioning would blast at the coldest temperature. and Mom’s black hair would blow back displaying her round moon face. In the early days her face was slim displaying her fine features. But Mom said the steroids had caused her face to be fat and round, similar to the moon. “Moon Face Corinne.” or fat and swollen just like the Nazi’ Spy that’s having an affair with your Father. “He must like fat faces Corinne.”

Later I learned that the years of steroids also caused “steroid psychosis.” which often ended with Mom locking herself, Crissie and I in her bedroom while she called the police about the bad men outside our house. There were also the times we would move big pieces of furniture against the door to keep the bad guys out… I’ll save those stories for another day.

Back to Lucky’s.

Mom and I cruising to the grocery store, Engelbert playing on the radio. Me on the console next to Mom – shoulder to shoulder like Thelma and a mini Louise. The air conditioning on the coolest setting blowing her hair back and her big round face.

I saw one of her Lee press on nails on the floor and it made my stomach sick just like eating the peas at school did.

Her Nebulizer machine was in the back seat.

The ashtray had a few smoked Marlboro reds in it with the her pink lipstick coating the top. The same pink lipstick that coated the top of her can of Tab soda. I could smell the cigarettes mixed with the new car smell and it gave me comfort. I was safe with Mom.

We were ready to attack Lucky’s grocery store.