Have I ever told you that Butch Cassidy (a.k.a Robert LeRoy Parker) is one of my ancestors?
So, today, one of the things to get done on my crazy To Do list was go to the grocery store. Seems harmless enough, right? And well, usually it is. Usually it is a very calm, almost peaceful thing I get to do each week. How can this possibly be with two more-hyper-than-normal-children?
Three words.
Smiths. Marketplace. Playland.
This is my saving grace. Really. I drop the kids off to play and then I get to grocery shop in peace. And yes, I know what you are probably all thinking, *just think of all the germs!!* Well, honestly, I used to be a germ-a-phobe, but now, if someone is willing to watch my kids for free while I grocery shop? Heck, I send them in, say a quick prayer for the germs to stay away, and sanitize like hell when I'm done.
And well, it works. Cause before? They'd be whining, and crying and having tantrums the entire store for lots of random grocery-store crap that we, rather nobody, needs.
So, today, when I went to the Smiths like any other perfectly good Tuesday, and walked the kids over to the playland, I pretty much had a mild heart attack when I saw the CLOSED sign sitting on the playland check-in desk. CLOSED? CLOSED? Why? For what? It's not like I was there at 6 a.m., or anything. Just your normal 2 p.m. afternoon shopping.
So then, my options. Drag the kids all the way back out of the store, and have to find another time to come by myself, or WORSE, drag them back with me tomorrow? Uggg. Neither choice was stellar. So, I went against everything I stand for, and decided to do a quick run through with the kids in tow and pray for the best.
Well, apparently I didn't pray hard enough, or to the right Grocery store God, because let me just tell you, IT DIDN'T GO WELL.
The first meltdown happened before we even actually started the shopping. I went to grab a shopping cart, but since I had Thing 2 with me, I couldn't just get a "normal" cart, no I had to get the nasty-should-be-illegal-due-to-the-massive-amounts-of-virus-germs-on-them car shopping carts. Ewww. Just ewww. Luckily Smiths is so kind as to provide you with a Clorox wet wipe, so I grabbed ten, and went to town. Sanitized the shiz out of those steering wheels, doors, seats, pretty much anything that my kids could or would or even might touch.
After that was done, we began, but not before the giant (and I mean giant) dinosaur jawbreakers caught Thing 1's eye. He immediately started listing all the reasons he just NEEDED TO HAVE that dinosaur jawbreaker or his life was sure to be miserable. (This was the first of many things he saw that he needed. The next item in the cereal box aisle right at kid height was a potato gun. Seriously. Cause that's just the item that belongs in the cereal box aisle.)
We start going, finally, and what do you know, the one car shopping cart wheel is squeaking so loudly I literally am kinda embarrassed. Like it's my fault the wheel has never been greased. As if, somehow I should feel shame about the grocery cart wheel. But don't worry, my shame is quickly replaced by the migraine that is beginning to form from the high pitched squeak. Ugg.
I think I am doing awesome. Shopping, pretty much as fast as humanly possible. Grab this, toss it in, grab that, keep going. See, the trick with these germ carts, I mean car shopping carts, is to never really stop. Stopping means inviting the little buggers to get out of the cart. And then you have to get them back in. And then that is impossible, and then you start to go crazy. So, even when I need to grab something I'm still pushing. Which makes things a little difficult, but in the end, easier then coaxing them back in said germ cart.
Somewhere around aisle 6 Thing 2 decides that it would be a fantastic idea to lean his head out the car door while I push him around. I ask him to sit up, he just tells me he enjoys having the wind in his hair. What the? Whatever. This soon leads to his little sister needing to hang her head out her window. Now, not only is my cart twice as long as the average cart (which makes steering almost comical), but also twice as wide. Absolutely ridiculous. I'm trying with all my might to not hit any other cart, or aisle, or stand alone food pyramid, without stopping. Cause remember, stopping means trouble folks.
So, finally, I've got all the things we can't live without. And I'm headed for the checkout stand. This is where I am forced to stop. And what do you think happens? Thing 1 takes this as his embossed invitation to run wild. And his sister follows. Monkey see, monkey do. Right? Here they come, running back, only Thing 1 has a mischievous look about his face. I chalk this up to the fact that he got away. They both get back in, I pay, and we load up all the groceries in the car. I've got both kids strapped in, and I'm thinking to myself. Well, that coulda been a lot worse. And I turn around to back out of the parking spot, and notice, hmmm, how peculiar. Both of my kids are chewing gum. Chewing Gum!
Well, things just got a lot worse.
Me: "Where did you get that gum?"
Him: "What gum?"
Me: That gum you are chewing.
Him: Evil, evil comic book laugh.
Me: Thing 1!!! Only I used his real name, with my angry eyes.
Him: Still laughing
Me: Where did you get that gum?
Him: From the store.
Me: What do you mean? (I am of course thinking the worst? Was it on the floor? The germ infested shopping cart? THE GROUND?!!?)
Him: No, from the shelf at the store.
Me: (Grunting in pure frustration. )
Next thing I know, I am back to unbuckling both children, making Thing 1 turn over his stolen Orbit melon mint pack of gum. March both children back into Smiths. Go to customer service, make him turn over the package of gum. Make him apologize. And I am the winner of a seventy one cent package of gum minus two sticks. Incredible.
Ohh that child! My son the thief. The four-year-old thief. I can't believe it.
But I'm pretty sure he won't be doing that again, thanks to my super-awesome kids who shoplift speech. See, the first time. They get off easy. A little apology. Pay for the gum themselves. Get their DS taken away for the day. This type of thing. But the 2nd time?
Jail.
And really, who can I blame for this? Certainly it wasn't something I taught him. And I doubt I can get away with blaming his father. The only thing I can come up with is that it's in his blood. The same blood that ran through Butch's veins is running through Thing 1's. Man I'm in for it.
Hope your day is going better than mine!
3 comments:
Kids steal. It happens, and the only thing that stops them from becoming criminals is the way parents deal with it.
When I was about 6 or so I stole a Matchbox car from the local 5 & Dime. Dad didn't notice until we got home, but he immediately packed me back into the car, drove me down to the store and made me walk back in, alone (it was the 60's), give the car back to the clerk and apologize. I won't try to tell you I never stole again, I still had to go through adolescence. But I will tell you that I could never shoplift without getting this huge rock in my gut ad my whole innerds bound up at the thought of returning that stolen toy. Too many parents these days would try to protect their kids from that kind of embarassment, but it's a good way to teach a kid to face up to their mistakes. We all make them, even when we're close to 50.
can't blame a kid for loving the maui melon mint... my fav! Garth stole some candy at the fabric store one day... I made him take it back in and pay for it and say he was sorry... and then Delia and I ate it in front of him! hee hee... I am a mean mom, but I think that it did the trick... he has never taken anything else!
I remember doing the same thing around that age ... except it wasn't a pack of gum, it was a gumball machine for sale on display that happened to be filled with gum, and I played with it to see if it would work, and ate the gum that came out. My mom also discovered me chewing in the car, marched me back in, and made me apologize. The store owner said it was perfectly fine and my mother insisted it wasn't. I was horrified at how horrified SHE was and never considered taking anything again. In fact, when my son sees people walking through the grocery store feeding their children grapes from a yet-unweighed, unpurchased bag to their children and wants some too, I emphasize that it is stealing and he will do no such thing.
I just don't think small children really have a sense of ownership, or the order in which they get something that they want, and sometimes have to be taught the hard way!!!
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