i mean, seriously. i'm ready to forgo food altogether. those 3 times of day are by far the worst part of the day. not for william, mind you. he will eat and eat and eat some more. wes on the other hand....i'm ready to give up on feeding him breakfast. and remember how cookie monster eats? yeah, the floor looks like i've had 3 cookie monsters eating at my table when they are through (not counting breakfast). we can just eat turkey sandwiches, and after all the sweeping and cleaning, it will take me 45 minutes to clean the kitchen after meals.
but that's not what i am talking about.
i'm talking kroger. yes, i know that sunday afternoons when i can go all by myself are the best times to go. and i do when i can. but that is not always possible, and a lot of times i have to take all 3 of my people with me. i have such a defeated feeling before i even walk in the place.
last tuesday was one such day. as we were leaving the swimming pool, i headed in the opposite direction of home...
william: "why are we going this way?"
me: "we have to go to kroger." (god, why do we have to eat? i don't want to go to kroger. please.)
wes: "yay!! i wanna go to krogert!" (with a t. i don't know.)
me: "we are all going to kroger. and we are all going to be very quiet and nice, right?"
wes: "i wanna wide in the wace car!"
william: "i want the red race car."
wes: "i want the blue wace car, mama! blue, blue!!"
william: "we had blue last time, i want the red, mama! get the red one, ok? ok? ok?"
me: "we will get which ever race car we see first." (that *#$!, nasty, germ-covered race car)
as i drive into the parking lot...
william: "i need to tee tee."
wes: "me too" (always have to be like brother)
i'm not sure how many of y'all have ever been in a grocery store bathroom, but it's not a place i like to visit often. especially with a kid who would for sure crawl all over that nasty floor and lick everything he could get his little tongue on while i try to get the other two to actually aim at the potty instead of each other. (if you think they've never peed on each other for kicks....you obviously don't have boys.) thankfully, i have boys who think peeing in cups/bottles/etc is great fun. also thankfully, i had an almost finished gatorade in the cupholder beside me. so they made use of my bottle.
william: "mama, you know what? tee tee makes blue gatorade turn green."
wes: "can i dwink it?"
me: "get out of the car."
me: (holding reed in one arm, and wes' hand with the other) "wes, hold william's hand"
william: "i don't wanna hold his hand. i'm big. i'm almost 5."
wes: "me too. i'm gonna be 3. let go of me."
me: "there will be no race car if you don't hold hands."
so we make it into the store after what must have looked like we were dancing a congo line through the parking lot to find the blue race car.
william: "but i wanted the ray-yed one!!"
me: "this is all they have. get in."
me: "wes, what are you eating?"
me: "that's not our cookie. gross. give me that."
william: "i want a cooooookie!"
me: "get in the car. do not touch each other. don't talk to each other."
i get reed strapped in the front and everything wiped down with clorox wipes. i'm sweating profusely at this point. i get my list out, start to push, and of course that #*@! race car buggy has a bum wheel. well, if you think i'm going to go through finding the other one and getting these people all arranged in that one....please. so i press on. and i'm getting a serious bicep/tricep and ab workout because the cart only pulls to left. along with the 75 extra pounds that is sitting on the lower, front part of my cart, it makes it a little difficult. i'm hunched over with my face practically even with handle on the cart in order to get some leverage to push the thing. now add to that the screeching "eeerrrrrrrrrrrr" that the cart makes when i move it due to the bum wheel and the "vrrrrrrrrrrrooooooooooommmmmmmm" that the 75 pounds is screaming while driving. the people back by the dairy case are surely wondering if the train outside has jumped it's track and is coming through the door right at them.
william: "wes headbutted me!"
william: "wes touched me!"
wes: "i'm not gon' do it again."
william: "i want the pink lady kind of apples."
william: "no. i want the golden delicious kind."
me: "we're getting the red kind."
william: "those are cameos. we can get those."
do you have to shop with a 4 year old know-it-all that must give apple approval?
and do you have to shop with other people who turn their cart around when they see you coming down their aisle? i mean, it's a given i can't control this cart, but it's sad when people run from you. but then there are others like the one lady who is all by herself pushing a working buggy that doesn't make noise and has no kids in/on it that just passes by you and laughs. punk. when i pass her on the next aisle...
me: "wanna trade?"
her: "ha. nope! but at least at this age, they are still cute. mine are 16 and 14, and they just fight all the time."
me: "seriously. what's cute? are you not listening to the racket? the little one is headbutting the bigger one. the bigger one is pushing the little one. somebody's hair will get pulled in a minute, and you'll be able to hear it in produce. yeah....super cute." (ok...i didn't say that.)
on to dairy...
me: "reed, please quit gnawing on the handle. that's gross."
reed: "come on, mama. i've been quiet this whole time. chill."
william: "i want chocolate milk."
wes: "me too"
william: "i milked a cow at school yesterday."
wes: "there wasn't a cow at school."
william: "uh huh!"
wes: "school doesn't have cows, weeyum."
william: "yes they do, wes!!!! we learned about cows, and i got to milk one!"
wes: "you didn't milk a cow!"
william: "YES I DID!"
please, oh please, get me out of here. people are staring at me and wondering why these people in the $*#! race car are arguing about cows.
wes: "i want my croc."
me: "william, give wes his croc."
william: "i don't have it."
me: "wes, where is your croc?"
wes: "i don't know."
me: "what do you mean you don't know? you lost it?"
william: "he threw it out of the car."
wes: "i not gonna do it again."
me: "william, where is it?"
william: "i don't know. he threw it out back there."
me: "where back there?"
william: "by the spaghetti."
and sure enough, after i make my way past the pancake mix and brownies, there's a single green croc on the floor by the pasta. shoot me.
as we are checking out, i get all my coupons out, give the cash register lady my kroger card, and then she asks, "did you want to pay for that?"
me: "pay for what?"
cash register lady: "that stuff they have." and she points to the *&%! race car.
unfortunately, the *&%! race car is low down, and the 75 pounds can grab stuff off the shelves without me knowing. this day, they have a can of tuna fish, a can of tomato paste, a twix, and a bag of skittles.
me: "no. none of that was on my list. here."
i hand it all back to her, she gives me my receipt, and i'm sure the store breaks out into applause the moment we step out the door into the parking lot.
the parking lot has a slight incline, so i'm hunched over pushing my cart full of groceries and people uphill to my car. screeching, "vrrrrroooooming," and drawing onlookers the whole way. and i'm promising myself that i will never come back to this place with these people ever again.
after i get everything unloaded in the car and the little people buckled up, i drop into my seat, get a squirt of germ-x, and heave a sigh of relief that i'm done with kroger for at least another week. i wipe a drop of sweat off my forehead, and reach for my gatorade.
oh, wait.....that's not gatorade.