Lost and Not Found

So Addison and I were at the international supermarket, El Grande, this week while Makenna was at preschool. After shopping for an hour, perusing through the papaya, pickled chicken feet, frozen naan bread, Thai cucumbers, and slaughtered fish laying out on a wooden slab atop a thin layer of ice, we make our way to the check-out counter. A very friendly Asian woman checks me out, totaling my bill to about $20. An even nicer bagger emphatically pushes me to the customer service counter to pick out a balloon for "that little boy" (my baby is sporting a darling purple outfit with an oversized purple flower). Receipts in hand (I was buying for a Mutual activity as well), we go grab a pink balloon, then walk out to the sidewalk to park my cart. (Footnote: grocery stores out here don't like you to walk your cart to your car and then unload. They have big obtrusive blockades so you have to park your cart on the sidewalk, go get your car, and then drive over and load your bags there.)

Once Addison's buckled in her carseat, I check the time and see I have just enough time to hurry on over to pick up Makenna at preschool, with no minutes to spare. I drive to the sidewalk and an elderly man looks at me, looks at the only cart parked on the sidewalk and proceeds to load them into my car. I thank him, drive off and no sooner have I exited the premises, a bag falls off the front seat and some apples fall to the floor. You should know that I BOUGHT NO APPLES. After frantically looking in the rest of the bags, I realize they are clearly not mine. I further realize that the seemingly nice elderly gentleman must have loaded my groceries into another car. ANOTHER CAR, PEOPLE. I turn around, pull up to the man, and tell him in English what had happened. Well, clearly that was my first problem. I should have used my fluent Japanese to inform him of his mistake. I also should have learned some sign language while I was at it, because he indicates he's hard of hearing as well as lacking the fundamental skills to communicate in my mother tongue.
I start to get worked up. I'm late. I have no groceries. I'm out $20. I look around and more than a handful of "International" Market shoppers are staring in confusion. So we all have one thing in common at this point- WE'RE ALL CONFUSED. He tells me that maybe I grabbed the wrong cart at the counter and took someone else's groceries. I tell him I had a baby attached to my cart which helped me NOT GET THE WRONG ONE.

In a quick second, I decide to leave my baby with her pink balloon on a string in my car, doors locked, and run in to find a manager.

In an attempt to make this long story not go on any longer, here's what I got out of the whole fiasco:
1. A refund on all my groceries.
2. FREE groceries the next time I came in

So some lessons learned...
1)Do everything in your power to carry your groceries to your car, even if you have a 25 pound baby on one hip.
2)Don't assume anyone speaks English at an International Market in Virginia.
3)A helium balloon on a string goes a LONG way with an 11-month old.
4)Remember: "There's a pony in here somewhere."