Grocery Shopping

Last week at the grocery store I was approaching the check out in a pretty typical way. I was pushing a cart full of groceries, David riding in the car attached to the front of the cart, which of course had a broken lap belt. It was all I could do to keep him in the thing. I was holding Nathan out in front of me because he was screaming his head off which is usually what he does at some point during our shopping trip. I'm unloading groceries very slowly, using one hand at a time, when a red headed kid with a messy face, about ten I would guess, approached us. "LOOK AT THAT LITTLE GIRL!!!" he squealed. "What is her name?" Meanwhile, I'm trying to swipe my card with my one free hand to help the line along as the people behind me were understandably wanting me to get a move on. And thanks by the way, to those people for not helping me unload my groceries and just watching me in amusement. I tried to ignore this kid but he was persistent. "CAN I GIVE HER A KISS?" Woah. This kid meant business. I told him no flat out. And if I wasn't in a hurry I would have explained that we don't let kids kiss him on the face but that he could look from an appropriate distance. I kept dodging the boy who was getting ever closer to Nathan's face. I was swinging Nate out in front of me to the left and right while I was trying to find my debit card. Then his little sister got in on the action. She also thought Nathan, the girl, was cute. It was about this point that I wondered where their mother was. I looked around and found her, with a long red-haired ponytail, also juggling kids through the dreaded self-check out lane. She was brave. But short line so I could see her point. I felt her pain. She also had her hands full and probably could hear her kids talking to me but acted like she couldn't so she could just get out of there. So I go to swipe the card and WHILE I AM SIGNING MY NAME, the kid plants one on Nathan. Right on his face! Who does that? The oldest brother of a gaggle of cute red-headed kids is who would. Any I meant to include that on my way to the check out line, the sushi lady, with a thick accent, offered to hold Nathan while I finished my shopping. I politely declined. But she insisted on grabbing his hands and cooing in his face. I actually kind of liked it. I like that people like my kids.

NOW, this week at the store, I decided to ditch the type of cart that made me feel like I was a circus show, and chose instead a normal cart. It is one thing to push a normal cart with one hand, but have you tried pushing and steering one of those huge ones with one hand? Not easy. I put Nathan facing me in his car seat and stuck David in the basket. I have done this before and although difficult, we made it through okay. I foolishly took David to the store hungry though. I soon found out that he was tampering with almost anything I put in the basket. He took a bite of a banana with its peel on for pete sake! So I was strategically placing the food that he could damage in the small area around Nathan's car seat right in front of me. All the while I am breathing threats to David that he is going to have to sit up by me and not in the basket. So I was putting things around him that I thought were safe, cans of food, gallons of milk, etc. It wasn't long before David, who doesn't really talk well yet, was getting my attention "Daddy! Daddy! Hmmmmshlaaaa uhhhhhh." I tried to ignore him but after a while he started to whimper. I couldn't really see him over my mountain of food stuffed in the kiddy seat with Nathan included, so I walked around to the front to see what was up. Oh no. David had throw up all over his clothes and dribbling down his chin. My first instinctive feeling was guilt for getting after him so much. He obviously wasn't feeling very good. "Oh David. Let's get you cleaned up." I pushed my way to the side of an aisle and found a wipe. As I wiped him down I realized that the puke didn't smell sour like I thought it would. I looked around and found a can of Campbell's chicken noodle soup halfway open and knew immediately that he didn't throw up at all. He popped the easy lid of the can and took a swig! And the worst part of all is that I didn't want to pay a dollar for the blasted soup! And I knew I didn't want to try and save the rest of it because it would spill all over my car.

I don't know what the point to these stories are. I guess for me it is that my idea of normal is totally different now that I have kids. I've heard stories like these before but never really understood how real they were. This is my reality. Do I love it? Sometimes. Is it hard? Oh yeah. Is it worth it? Absolutely. I love these guys so much. Even if they make things 20 times harder than they need to be.