There I was in WalMart when I had when I had what my kids would refer to as a “sweet” moment.  I was fighting off WalMart psychosis, that fragile mental condition that overtakes me when I step into the store, when I wandered over toward the BBQ stuff. 

It was right around the corner from and endcap for “Bubba’s Tater Chips.” 

The Butt Lounger. 

Not to be confused with the wicked “Ab Lounger” this thing promises that the only six-pack you’ll get is what you pick up from the cooler.

The cardstock flier had a softish-looking, dozing mommy on the package.  

I pulled it off the shelf and found it was entangled in 3 other folding chairs.  I took a deep breath and tried to fish it out.  The other three chairs jiggled, threatening to fall on top of the Butt Lounger.

I’ve got to have this, I murmured under my breath as I wrestled the entangled chairs.  I got one side of the armrest free only to see that one of the chairs had shifted and now hung up the leg of the Butt Lounger.

I wiped the sweat off my brow and gave it another run, choosing to ignore the mother and her kid that was staring as they walked by.  Mommy, what is that lady doing? I could hear the kid inquire.

I muttered some more under my breath, gave it a final jerk and with a clatter, extricated it.

It was tightly folded up.  Oh-oh.  This could mean trouble and I knew it was time for extreme measures: I must read the directions.

The directions consisted of a diagram of a little red arrow pointing to a thingamabobber underneath the armrest.  It looked like a trigger of sorts.

So I finagled it, pulling in every which direction. 

I flip the chair over and managed to unfold it a wee bit.  If I were a stick of gum, I could have just slithered onto it and been dozing in minutes. 

I pushed down the head…..and the feet came up.  When I pushed the feet down, yup…you got it.

I felt a deep primal urge from within to hoist it over my head and fling it at the Bubba’s chip display.  But I resisted, sucked air in through clenched teeth and puzzled some more over the mysterious trigger.  There lay the answer.  I could feel it in my bones.

I pulled firmly and heard a click!  I pulled on the other side.  Click!  Eureka!  Enter into the joy of the Lord, faithful servant! 

The Butt Lounger obediently unfolded and offered itself up for a snooze. 

I cautiously climbed onto it, afraid its jaws may close up on me.  I adjusted the attached pillow.  Yeah.  That’s more like it.

Then I had to get up.  Good thing I wasn’t wearing a dress…not that there’s any in my wardrobe anyway.  I flung a leg over on either side, pulled up on the armrests and hoisted myself up.  A very unlady-like “Umpf!” escaped my lips.  For a Butt Lounger, this was talking a heck of amount of work. 

But I was sold.  And I decided it could come in handy out in the parking lot in case I needed to take a rest from looking for the Suburb. Finally,  I popped over to the other fizzy drink section; a six-pack has never been this easy before.