The Grocery Store Diaries 9

You've got your hands full: two
Dirty looks: five-we had a bad day
Damage control: We made it home without any broken jars or cracked eggs

You know how much I would enjoy being able to sit down and be pushed around a store? Just once, maybe I could climb into the race car and they could push me around like I pretended I could drive? Yeah right....

Anyway, we are now playing musical chairs and "hokey-pokey" with the grocery cart cars. The baby has discovered how much fun it is to drive instead of sit up front with mommy. Sometimes if I am shopping with just him, I grab a regular cart and throw him in it. Major oops. He screams bloody murder all around the store. People stare. They stare a lot. You can always be flippant and say, "What do I care what they think?" But you know that you do. You also know there are cameras everywhere filming you pushing a screaming child around the store. So it is a given that he will get one of the two steering wheels and the other two will have to fight it out for the other. That is when "musical seats" kicks in.

Today Kenneth got in next to his brother and Frances sat up front. Half away around the store she wants down. I tell her no and she screams yes and I keep thinking about those cameras and let her out. Then she tries to climb into the car with her brothers, who start yelling at her to get out. So now she is hanging off the side of the cart.

In the mean time, the boys are doing the "hokey-pokey" sticking their arms and legs every way they can in and out of the car. Lowell has perfected sneaking his little hand in between the silver bars for a grape. Kenneth will wait until we are in the most crowded aisle in the store, usually the most judgmental too, and put his head thru the front and scream "LOOK AT ME!" Apparently I don't give him enough attention for doing the right thing.

I feel like a skipping CD. "Put your arm in." "Put your leg in!" "Why is he crying?" "Don't pull things off the shelves." "Stay in the cart!" "I mean it this time! We will go home." This just makes people crack up as they walk by. Then sure enough, no matter how many times I say don't stick your hand out, someone gets a finger pinched, and then they are screaming again.

Now Kenneth is out of the car to "help" me and Frances is in the car to "help" Lowell. Neither of us need help from either of them. So I start snapping at Kenneth and Lowell starts screeching at Frances. One of these days I'm going to end up on an HBO episode of In Treatment.

Check out, sweet check out. How I love to check out. Today we got behind an older woman who had coupons and was paying in cash-which means she counted out her change in pennies. Sure enough, my mascot decided to pull all of the Suns off the magazine rack. I guess he wanted to read about how Aliens from Mars are secretly taking over the world.

Kenneth wants to help bag. Actually, he is quite good at it. He matches the boxes with boxes and the jars with jars and knows that cleaners should have their own bag. This takes longer than it would if the bagger and I just threw everything wherever. Before anyone emails me, I use plastic. I know, someday I will buy and bring my own canvas ones. Cut me some slack until then.

As we are walking back, all is well. I buckle all three of them in, start the car, get the DVD player going, and pull out of the parking spot.

With the cart still full of groceries behind me.

Enough said?