Amazingly, the Walmart Super-freakin'-center about 30 minutes south of my small town, carries both items on a regular basis.
My steady hands gripping the cart with PK riding shotgun, we made our way for the entrance nearest to the groceries. Just outside the 40-odd doors of the southern entrance, I noticed several young high school types hocking candy bars as a fundraiser for their church school.
Myself being a hardened veteran of C's Campfire Kids USA candy sale, and her elementary school candy/nuts/cookie dough/frozen desserts fundraiser, I nodded knowingly to the tall freckly girl in the middle and murmered that I would swing by on our way out.
Unfortunately for them, I exited the building from the north entrance (oxymoron, I know), a good 7 clicks (WalMart Supercenters are marathon man huge) from where the waifish Baptists were selling their quickly melting candy bars (it was unseasonably warm and in the high 70's that day).
I completely spaced on my murmered promise until I was more than half way done overstuffing the 1 cubic-foot of available space in Otto's trunk with freshly purchased Wal-groceries.
Oh well. The church school loses out and my family goes cocoa-bean less for another night.
Just as I slam dunk the trunk, out of nowhere, a tall, slim stranger, wearing a tan-suede cowboy hat (I couldn't make this stuff up), steps up, hands me one of the huge almond-laced chocolate bars that the girls were selling and says in what had to be the best non-Brokeback Mountain cowboy twang I've ever heard,
With that, he tipped his hat to my 3-year old who was staring in awe at the parting cowboy.
I felt like yelling, Shane! Come back Shane! We love you Shane!"