oh, the pain….

I never learn.

Ever.

I love my kids, I really do. But take them through the double doors of ANY store wherein they will not be given toys, and they turn into creatures from the underworld.

Or something.

Pea is stuffed in the shopping cart seat (like me, she has delusions about how small she actually…isn’t.)  Boo is walking alongside.  They are swatting at each other like zebra tails at a watering hole. Or…maybe more aptly, monkeys at the zoo. Complete with the bum picking, as Pea is constantly adjusting her underpants. I know. Charming…

I turn my back to get a box of cereal, and I hear a scream loud enough to crack open the eggs in the next aisle.

And its from my SON. Who was hit by my daughter. Because she got mad.
Because he pinched her.
Because  SHE TOLD HIM TOO.

Really, shopping with monkeys would be easier.

I’m trying, really I am. I’ve given them things off the list to help me look for.

We’re playing “I Spy” to find other things on my list.

I’m letting Boo pick the fruit and veg, and Pea put things in the cart (which basically means she chucks them over her shoulder. Thank GOD she has good aim.)

I’m RUNNING through the refrigerated aisles (because its cold, and I’m developing a twitch in my left eye from the whining because of it.)

There is a reason I shop while they are in school.

Waiting another two weeks for groceries is not an option. (And for whatever reason, while back in Chicago I had no hesitation about going to the market at 10pm, here, taking the car out after dinner is just, well, an odd idea to me. Go figure.)

Until school starts, I’m going to be relegated to online shopping, and since I can’t do the grams to pounds conversion in my head (ok, I can’t do ANY math in my head since I’ve had my kids – which doesn’t bode well for one with a degree in Finance) I’ll have to accept that I’ll end up with massive bags of carrots, and packages of chicken large enough to feed only Boo.

So in the meantime, if you hear me talking about taking the kids to the grocery store, to the pet store, or any place that contains a cash register (including restaurants) please – PLEASE – for the love of all that is holy, stop me.  Take away my keys. Bitch-slap some sense into my head.

Please.

Comments

  1. I feel your pain! I had to take the kids both shopping today and thought I was going to go crazy! I'm definitely a 10 PM Dominicks shopper.

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