Yesterday afternoon I asked my older son if he wanted to accompany me to the grocery store. He’s definitely my little shopper, so he obliged. I promised that it would be a quick trip, as I was just running out for some snacks for company that we were having later in the day.
Before getting out of the car I told him that he needed to stick close by me because it was a weekend and the store would be busy. I also reminded him that I needed him to be my helper and not cause any added stress.
The trip went smoothly. My son pushed the cart, helped me make decisions and even ran back to grab three bags of baby carrots for me. He then helped me load my items onto the conveyer belt and swung the cart around to the cashier so that she could use it for the next guest.
Another successful grocery trip in the books…not quite!
You see, at this particular grocery store, it is up to the shopper to bag all of their items. I usually sort my purchases on the counter and then bag them according to where they will go in our house; refrigerator, pantry, etc.
However, I really had to go pee so I was trying to make quick work out of the whole situation. Meanwhile, my six-year-old was already begging me to have an ice cream sandwich (the one treat that I gave in and bought for him). I told him that he could have one when we got home, but not at that very second, because I really had to go to the bathroom! And not in my car, because it would make a mess.
I tried to get through packing up my groceries, I really did. But after having two ten pound babies, it’s not as easy as it used to be to hold it! I had to make a decision. Leave my groceries? Leave my kid? Leave both?!
The bathroom was right around the corner and the cashier was right there, so despite judging myself as a terrible mother, I opted for both. I told my kiddo to hang tight with the groceries while I ran to the loo and peed faster than a racehorse!
Upon my return, I felt much more comfortable. So when my little angel decided to continue to press for the ice cream sandwich I was able to keep my cool. I once again explained to him that we would be finishing up soon and he could have it when we got home.
To which he replied, “but I’m starving!”
I could tell that the woman next to me was in on our conversation, so I quickly said, “Oh, you’re starving?! How about those three bowls of oatmeal that you just ate for breakfast?!” (In case you’re wondering, he really did eat three bowls of oatmeal for breakfast).
The lady then chuckled and we shared niceties about growing boys, etc. However, instead of leaving it at that, letting me finish what I was doing and getting the heck out of there, she continued her theories about growth spurts. She told me that she was a grandmother and that children need food so that they can grow. (Umm, thanks lady…I’m not a complete moron?!)
My son took her cue and in his most dramatic, Oscar-worthy voice loudly said, “Mom, you’re starving me to death!!”.
The lady immediately offered him a small bag of mixed nuts, asking me if it was OK as she was pushing them into his grubby little paws. What was I supposed to say?! “No! I have over a hundred dollars worth of healthy groceries sitting right in front of me and he can wait fifteen more minutes?!”
I bit my tongue. Hard.
I was taught to respect my elders, so I flashed her a smiled and thanked her. My son also thanked her (see, I’m NOT a terrible parent. My kid does have good manners, he just chooses not to use them with me).
I finished packing up my groceries as fast as I could and got the hell out of there!
The whole way to the car my son was babbling about what a nice lady she was. Seething, I took one look at him and said, “You just told me this morning that you don’t even like cashews!?”