So, you have an uneventful, successful trip to the grocery store. Then the cell phone rings. Why oh why did you answer it? You should have let it ring. You should have known better. But believe it or not, the phone was in the side pocket of your now famous Vera Bradley back pack, so, on the high of a successful grocery store trip, you answered it.
“Hi honey! Are you still at the store?”
“Yes! We are finishing up.” You are secretly thinking, “See? I am competent. I can take three kids to the store and buy a week’s worth of groceries without anyone screaming or biting.” June Clever take that!
“Great-hey listen, I’m leaving New Haven now. Can you pick up my dry cleaning? Thanks, love you bye.” And he hangs up without giving you a chance to say yes or no.
Stare at the children. Stare at the grocery bags. What is one trip to the dry-cleaners? It’s the same shopping center for crying out loud. How hard can it be?
You chugga chug chugga chug chugga cha cha cha with the children all the way back to the car (It’s a Little Einsteins thing). You unload all the groceries into the back. You make sure all three of them are strapped into the proper car seat and climb in the driver’s seat. You drive to the opposite side of the shopping center to get the dry-cleaning. But here is the deal-there are no parking spots near the dry-cleaners. You circle around twice, knowing the popsicles are melting, and pull into a spot that to be honest is closer to the grocery store that you just came from than the cleaners. How do you get all three of them across the busy parking lot and to the cleaners? You pull out the double stroller but really don’t feel like putting Lowell in the hippy sling, so you plan to strap him in the stroller with Kenneth and tell Frances to be a big girl and walk. She is half way to the Blockbuster before you can catch her. You grab her and walk with the boys around and up to the store.
The cleaners really isn’t that eventful, with the exception of Frances dancing in front of the mirrors and running into the dressing room. The owner comes out with a heck of a lot more dry-cleaning than you thought you were picking up, and he looks from you, to Frances dancing in front of the mirror, to the boys squirming in the stroller, and tells one of the teenage boys who works for him to carry the clothes for you. This is incredibly nice, but you are highly embarrassed by how far away you had to park and all the groceries in the back. The kid smiles and follows you out the door, when Frances proceeds to run off again and you chase her again. And then you realize just exactly how far you had to park with the extra person walking with you. Then you open your trunk and see all the groceries and now all the clothes and don’t forget you have to re-fold the double stroller and make all of it fit nice and neatly
You get the stroller back in around the groceries and then place the clothes neatly on top. You thank the poor boy who has probably decided that he is never going to accidentally get anyone pregnant ever thanks to the experience with your three kids. You load everybody up, get in the car, do the “Ready normal people?” chant, and then your daughter starts to scream, “My Goofy! Where’s Goofy?” She left her Goofy doll in the cleaners.
Do you really, really want to load all three of them back in the stroller and walk back to the cleaners? Really? Do you really think your daughter will get over it? The answer is “No” to all the questions. So you do something the old you would NEVER do. The you before you had a third child that is. You drive around and park in the NO PARKING ZONE in front of the said cleaners and leave all three kids in the car. You run in, grab Goofy, and run out.
Your husband has beaten you home and he can’t figure out what took so long. All he asked you to do was “pick up” his dry cleaning. Two second trip, right?
Guilford needs a drive thru cleaners-it can go next to the Chick-Fil-A.
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