I recently did something I have not done in, well, forever. I brought my daughters to the grocery store. I know, right. Just one of the many everyday things that now feel so foreign. I do love a good late-night online grocery order, but sometimes often, I just haven’t planned ahead.
That lack of planning led me to the grocery store in the middle of a Saturday (something that even pre-COVID I had avoided). And like most anytime I leave the house, I have four small humans racing to put their shoes on to come along, not wanting to miss out on anything. The process usually goes something like…
Me: Subtly grabs keys. Turns silently towards the door.
Them: Instantly sense I am leaving and desperately want to come.
Me: Telling them I will literally be riiiiiight back.
Them: Tears. Lots of tears.
Me: Tries to reassure them they aren’t missing out on anything.
Them: Shouts for help for me to double check they have their shoes on the right feet. Inevitably someone growls at/pinches/looks the wrong way at another sibling which leads to MORE tears.
You get the idea. This situation is on rinse and repeat, basically daily in this house. But hey, I also know that one day (probably sooner than I’d care to admit), they won’t want to come anywhere with me. So I will take the tear-filled battle to join me at the grocery store.
Oh right… the grocery store. That is what this story was supposed to be about. If this doesn’t perfectly sum up parenting, I don’t know what does.
Mom tries to tell story about the grocery store. Can’t get past the front door of the house.
Well, there is always next time. Wishing you a week ahead that’s as tear-free as possible (for your kids AND yourself), with shoes on the right feet and maybe even a solo trip to the grocery store.