Ever get to that point right before you’re supposed to go grocery shopping where you have like some flour, a couple of cans of vegetables of some sort and some peanut butter?
Maybe you haven’t but that’s where we were today and though we’re going to stock up tomorrow, we needed milk and eggs and some chicken. Otherwise, we were going to be having some ungodly mixture of canned green beans, flour and peanut butter.
It was off to Target for the kids and me and I won’t lie, I was a tad bit nervous about the whole affair since Tucker is usually with me to corral at least one of the kids. I strapped Ollie to my back in my BabyHawk carrier and went with it. Of course he only lasted in it for about twenty minutes.
Our Super Target has free cookies at the bakery counter and that kept the kids busy for a good five minutes.
We were just about to leave – I had maybe four things left to get – and Oliver decided he really shouldn’t have to sit in the buggy any longer. He made his opinion known…loudly.
Oliver would stand up and scream. I would sit his butt back down and he would scream some more. Each time he would stand up, I would stop the buggy and tell him to sit down. This went on for twenty minutes.
What? It takes a long time to get across Target when you have to stop every two minutes.
Oliver was screaming the whole time. High pitched harpy screaming. As I turned down one of the aisles – right behind this old woman – she looked back over her shoulder and increased her speed. I just giggled. I might have allegedly followed her for a couple of aisles. Allegedly.
I don’t know if it’s the medicine I’m on or if I just genuinely didn’t care – it was nothing like THIS trip to Target – but Cara and I started laughing.
Every time Oliver would scream, Cara and I would laugh. I’m sure that didn’t help the situation, but the fit Oliver was throwing was epic and what else could I do but laugh?
Oliver officially became “that kid” and just a few months ago, I probably would have been all self-conscious and stuff but today, when people gave me bad looks, I just smiled at them. A genuine smile. I was in on the biggest joke ever and those nasty faced people? They were missing out.
Poor nasty faced people. Must be horrible to not be in on the joke.
And of course, this is one of those “I’ve judged other parents’ parenting skills based solely on their screaming spawn” posts.
Because I have. And so have you.
Because if a kid is screaming his lungs out, OF COURSE the parents suck and are probably secretly beating the kids. Until it’s your kid and you’re just putting your foot down and the kid is acting like a toddler and is all pissed off and stuff.
There’s no moral. You take from this what you want – I just found the whole thing funny.
After a long, long time of screaming, Oliver finally chilled out and was a happy camper for the rest of the shopping trip.
And we now have milk and eggs and chicken and a few new clothes for the kids so I officially declare this day a success.