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I’m pretty sure I suffer from some type of memory loss regarding doing a grocery shop with my kids.
Often my husband or I will stay in the car with my 3yo & 4yo whilst the other one of us grabs the few items we need. Kids and grocery shopping are just never a good combination in my experience and why I didn’t remember this today I will never know.
We’d spent a few hours at the park this morning, had lunch out, and even had icecream. Before heading home to play in the garden we needed to stop at the supermarket for a few things. Both children wanted to come in with me. I said yes. I said yes?! Had I forgotten the monsters they transform into once we enter supermarkets? Apparently so! Off we went, all four of us!
D2 didn’t want to walk, he didn’t want to sit in a trolley, he wanted Daddy to carry him. We got a trolley (a double seated trolley). We karate chopped D2 into the trolley. D1 refused to sit in there, he wanted a separate trolley. I said no. I know, I know, bad momma, but this was meant to be a QUICK shopping trip. D1 now wanted to sit in the trolley with D2. The seat had a mark on it. Meltdown approaching. Meltdown avoided. Mummy used her scarf as a seat cover, of course.
We entered the supermarket.
D1 no longer wants to be in the trolley, it’s uncomfortable and hurting his “winkle”. D1 walks, and is told to hold my hand. D2 wants to walk, he is not allowed out. His ‘runner’ reputation goes before him and he cannot be trusted. I put my scarf back on because D1 no longer needs to use it as a somebody-elses-crap-coverer. D2 looks at the mark on the empty seat next to him and starts dramatically gagging. Mommas scarf returns to the seat.
D2 asks to be carried, as opposed to sitting in a trolley being pushed around like royalty.
D1 picks up a butternut squash and shouts “What’s this mummy?” I see a lady give me the once over. I feel paranoid that she now thinks I don’t feed my children vegetables so I say “It’s a butternut squash, you’ve tried it before!” I lied. I outright lied for the benefit of a nosey stranger. Idiot. I am an idiot. D2 now wants the butternut squash.
D2 asks to be carried.
D1 asks if we are finished yet.
My husband and I have a conversation about dinner, D2 takes this as an open invite to shout his preference; pizza. “Pizza pizza pizza!” he bellows over and over again. I told him he wasn’t having pizza for tea this evening because he had it four days ago for dinner. He continues. My blood pressure rises. We walk by the pizza without stopping.
D1 now wants to sit in the trolley, the actual trolley, not the seat part, but it’s full of shopping. He was not impressed. He decides he now wants to stand by the hot chicken counter because “It’s warm!” The counter is empty, we feel awkward. D1 appears in his element.
Bread, bread, bread. Never choose bread when your children are there. Such a simple item to get, yet my brain had decided to malfunction. “Pizza pizza pizza!” yelled D2 as D1 took a big birthday cake off the shelf and sat with it cross-legged on the floor to inspect it. I asked him to put it back, instead he heard me ask him to tip it up onto it’s side for a closer look. I put it back on the shelf for him. I didn’t put it back where he got it from. He had to put it in it’s rightful place.
Bread, back to the bread.
D2 asks to be carried.
We’ve now been in the shop for 15 minutes. Our 5 minute trip had tripled in time. Right, momma on a mission.
D1 wants to buy a pack of icing because it has pretty cookies on the front, he won’t believe me that the cookies are not in the packet too. We compromise on sweets instead. D1 wants jaw-breaking type sweets, I make a few (sensible) suggestions, he suggests 3 more jaw-breaking types before settling for mommas suggestions.
D2 asks to be carried. I say asked but really I mean squawks like a bird that’s been hit by a very large truck!
My shopping list in my brain has disintegrated. My husband couldn’t think straight either.
D1 decides to spin round in circles instead of walking. I felt like my brain was doing the same.
Cheese next. Oh and milk. Oh crap, we forgot the bread.
D2 squawks. And squawks. And squawks some more.
D1 can’t walk anymore.
Let’s go. Screw the rest of the food. Who needs groceries anyway? Not us! Not ever again! Quick dash to the cashier, and lets get out. Out, out out!
Annnnnnnnnnnd we’re home.
I think going grocery shopping with children can be likened to some kind of traumatic life event. My husband and I walk into a supermarket with two children, and we leave with two gremlins and high blood pressure.
I love my kids, but not enough to take them grocery shopping with me in the near future! (Joke)
Oh, and D2 had pizza for dinner! 😉