Thursday, October 2, 2008

Something's Gotta Give

My first mistake was taking the kids to the grocery store with me, instead of dropping them off at home, and running out for groceries by myself. My husband was at home, and perfectly capable of taking the kids. I don't know why I was compelled to take them with me. My husband's theory is that I feel like I have to spend every minute outside of work with them.

When we got to the store, I got a cart, and Seesa wanted one of the little kid sized carts for herself. Of course, Milly wanted one too. So the three of us, with our three carts, started shopping for groceries.

This is basically what I sounded like as we made our way through the store:

Hey Seesa, slow down.
Milly, come on. We're going over here.
Seesa, you can't swing the cart around like that.
Milly, come on, this way.
No, we've got plenty of candy at home.
Thanks sweetie, but we don't need any Crisco.
Hey, stop.
Please don't put that in your cart.
Seesa, watch out, you're going to run into someone.
Milly, we're over here.
Come on guys.
No, we don't need anything down that isle.
Ok, stop.
You can put the next thing in your cart.
No, we've already got dish washing detergent Milly, please put those back.
Come on, let's go over here.
Seesa, slow down.
No, we don't need any hot dogs.
Let's get some fruit.
Come on over here.
Ok, here we go.
Let's check out now.
Seesa slow down.
Milly, come on over here.
No, we've got plenty of candy at home.
No, we've got plenty of stuffed animals at home.
Ok, one more grape and then we need to pay for them.
Guys, come over here.
Please don't swing on the bars.
No, we aren't getting candy.
They just want grapes, can you just hand me the grapes?
Yes, you can push the buttons, just a minute.
Ok, come on guys, let's go.
Honey, I need to help you with the cart, it's heavy.
Just get in the car guys.
No, you may NOT brush your teeth.
Do NOT open that toothpaste.
Why did you hit her?
Say you're sorry right now.
Everyone please just stop crying.

I got home, walked in the door, and declared to my husband, "Dinner is somewhere in these shopping bags. Have a ball."

2 comments:

Kirsten said...

Pat yourself on the back for not using the F-word.

Working mom's guilt is gonna kill you. Like Marinka once said, focus on blogging instead.

Anonymous said...

ahahahahahahaAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! I felt like I was walking through the grocery store with you every step of the way.

Had I been blogging a Something's Gotta Give, I would be writing about how I went to Faces with girls from my work Friday night, drank screwdrivers (and I never drink) and drunk texted a 20 year old Persian boy who misunderstood the difference between drunk texting and booty texting. I had to keep repeating - No, I am NOT coming over to your place tonight.

 

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