This week’s grocery shopping trip started out with an unexpected plot twist. When I brought the girls down to say goodbye to Daddy before we headed out on our journey, Princess Rapunzel decided that she wanted to stay home with him and watch football. Interesting turn of events! I pondered this for a moment and decided that it should be easier for me to get the shopping done with only one little
monster cherub instead of two. I explained to Little Boo that she was going to have Mama all to herself (which is all she ever wants) and we headed out.
Everything was going smoothly for the first thirty seconds of our trip! I hadn’t even gotten out of the driveway yet when she started screaming, “Where’d Princess Rapunzel go?” Oh. no. I explained to her that PR had decided to stay home with Daddy and she was watching yucky football. We were going to the store! Mommy had an enormous bag full of fruit snacks and we were going to get cheese at the deli! She was less than thrilled.
We made it into the store and I got LB situated into the cart, fruit snacks in hand, and we were off. She had only asked where her sister was thirty times since we had left the house, so I was certain that she would be catching on soon. PR was not going to pop up from behind the mac and cheese display and join us on our trip. Next stop, the deli. Now, in case you don’t shop at Market Basket on a Sunday, let me tell you a little bit about the deli line. You will pull a ticket at least forty numbers from where they currently are and then you have to do all the rest of your shopping while constantly checking back to make sure that your number isn’t up yet. I find myself having mini panic attacks halfway down a jam-packed aisle that I can’t get myself out of while I envision them calling my number but I just can’t get there in time. Stressful! I went to pull a ticket and there were none there. What in the world? I started to panic. Should I go to a different store? Should I tell someone behind the counter that there are no tickets? They’ll never listen to me because it’s not my turn! Man was I in a pickle. Just as I was about to make some sort of rash decision, a man with a ticket walked over to put his back and I lunged at him, “I’ll take it!!!”. Phew, crisis aborted.
And that was exactly the amount of time that Little Boo had decided that she would sit in the carriage. Nothing in the enormous bag would entice her to sit in her seat. Desperate, I tried putting her into the front part, but she kept standing up and if she wasn’t standing, she was trying to bash two bottles of hot sauce together. This was no good. I had the ridiculous idea that maybe she would walk with me and hold my hand. Ha! We’ll chalk that up to temporary Market Basket insanity. I had no choice but to corral her into the sling, which she was not happy about. She was trying to wiggle free when I hit her with her kryptonite – bunny, blanket and binky. I had to shove bunny between her face and my chest, wrap her blanket around her in the sling and tuck it into various places so that it wouldn’t fall off, and I popped that binky right into her mouth. She had no choice but to fall into instant cuddle mode when this happened and it meant that she was no longer trying to wiggle free. It did, however, pose a bit of a challenge when trying to pick out my groceries because I basically had a mid-sized Eskimo wrapped around my torso. Not to mention it put her hands right at the prime level to grab anything and everything. Trying to get green beans from the bulk bin is really a fun time with a handsy Eskimo happily grabbing handfuls and throwing them on the floor while shouting, “My turn!” Sorry Market Basket!
All in all, it went fairly well. The biggest meltdown happened in the checkout aisle when LB got her weekly sticker. You see, last week the cashier, bless her little heart, had spent no less than five minutes on each of the girls’ stickers drawing a cute little cat face on them. LB is obsessed with cats, or meow-meows as she would say, so this really struck a chord with her. As soon as we were in line she started asking for her sticker and when this week’s cashier just drew a quick smiley face on it, it sent her over the edge. Poor LB took one look and yelled, “Meow-meow!” at the girl and tried to hand it back. I just smiled, thanked her, and headed to the door while trying to scour the cashiers’ faces looking for the meow-meow artist. Will I ever remember what she looks like so that I can spend ten extra minutes in line just so my daughter can be overjoyed by her sticker which she will lose before we get back to the car?
I didn’t see her this time, but there is always next week…