Saturday, November 16, 2013

My Apologies to Winco

The kids and I went shopping this morning. I had high hopes for a weekend of freezer cooking, and basically being Super Woman. My list was made after scouring recipe lists, my coupon in my purse, my first batch of applesauce in the crockpot. My children were dressed adorably, and we were ready to shop.

Fast forward to me in the check out line, throwing items on the conveyor belt like it was an Olympic sport. The checker picks up my box of gallon size freezer Ziploc's, the box was ripped open and the bags were everywhere. "Are you sure you want this?" he asks me. "Oh yes, my daughter did that. Just throw them all in a bag, it's fine." He gathers them all up, "I could probably get them all back in there " I interrupt him, "Oh no, just throw them in there", my voice is raising a hair higher, as my franticness (not a word, go with it) is getting worse. I'm sweating. He stares at Emmy. Oh, I guess I forgot to mention she is screaming. Howling, really. Arching her back, screaming "No" often. I'm ignoring her, because this has been happening for a good 15 minutes. I'm trying REALLY hard to get checked out, get my children to the car and go lock myself in the house, never to leave again.

"Why is she crying? What happened to her?" The checker asks me. Why is she crying. Maybe he doesn't have kids. I tried to think of a good, logical explanation as to why she is tantrum-ing, but I couldn't think of one. Oh, I can name some reasons, but they don't really explain why an almost 2 year old child is crying. She could have been crying because:

-Because when I set the OJ next to her, she tried to drink it and couldn't get it open (Thank God for small miracles)

-Because after she threw the OJ in the back of the cart, she could no longer reach it.

-Because when she pulled the 10th ziploc bag out, I took the box away, and wouldn't let her chew the box any further.

-Because she is almost 2.

-Because today is a day that ends in Y.

-Because I clearly needed to be knocked down a peg or two on the parenting ladder.

So, I didn't have a good answer, and it suddenly dawned on my that I had to bag my own dang groceries. As I am throwing things in bags, the checker says "Your son wants this chocolate candy that will make him crazy sugar high and possibly have a meltdown later, can he have it?" The good parent in my head said No, but the other one replied "He's been so good, he can whatever he wants". Casey begins to pick the wrapper off in 637 pieces, and another cashier comes over to help him, and to try to calm down Emmy. It was a nice gesture, but she was met with "No! No! NNNOOOOOO!!!"

I'm still sweating. I am remaining calm, still smiling, and am possibly going to be receiving some sort of Academy Award in the future.

"Ok! Mommy would like to go home now!" I brightly announce, mostly to myself. A nice, older lady, who had previously run into us in the foil aisle, conversing with Casey on his new Jake the Pirate toothpaste and toothbrush, distracting Emmy's screaming for 45 brilliant seconds, patted my shoulder as we were leaving the store. She, apparently had children once.

I strapped the kids in the car, snapped open a Monster Ultra Zero (the white ones, they are amazing), and drank it like it was tequila. The tantrum continued as I white knuckled the drive home. Oh yea, I missed my exit. Then I missed the next exit as well. Then, I got us all caught up in construction, while my child screamed, and I waved at the nice workers. I would have traded places with them in an INSTANT. As we pulled in the driveway, there was a ceasefire in the back seat.

Deep breaths. As I unloaded the groceries, I found the $10 off coupon that I didn't give to the cashier . More deep breaths.
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