It’s been a busy day.
It felt like the morning was spent convincing Amy (a) to take a shower, and (b) that getting her school pictures taken later in the day truly wouldn’t be a horrible event.
Both Kate and Amy also had their school physicals today, too. And guess who needed shots?
Here’s a hint: it wasn’t my typically happy, easy-going child who tolerates needles like a champ.
Fun times.
After all the trauma of the morning and the doctor’s office, I caved and bought each girl a Happy Meal for lunch. There’s nothin’ like Smurf figurines and French fries to set the world right again.
After we ate, I had to do some grocery shopping. One of my fantastic neighbors has shown my kids tremendous kindness, AND she allowed me to hold our Fijit party at her house. So tonight I was going to cook supper for their family, trying to repay all her favors just a little bit.
I should back up here a step or two to tell you that Kate and Amy have been little troublemakers on shopping-type excursions lately. While they’re always playful and good-humored, they’re quick to start dancing (which quickly morphs into reckless and exuberant flailing) in the aisles, or one will initiate a tickling contest, or worse yet – a game of hide-n-seek. I’ve been trying to get them to understand that there’s certain behavior expected in places of business.
With very mixed results.
So before we headed into the grocery store for a quick couple of items, I gave them a very stern mini-lecture on how they were to behave. Part of the instructions were to stay with me and the cart AT. ALL. TIMES.
Oh – and to keep their body parts to themselves (i.e. no touching, poking, tickling, etc.).
So we’re zipping through the store with the occasional stop, and I suddenly realized that, though we’re in aisle 10, I forgot something over in aisle 4. We quickly back-track, both girls behaving quite well.
As we approach aisle 4, I see there are several other shoppers and carts near the area where I need to go. As such, I parked the cart about 12 feet away from my destination, over by the meat freezers (which are perpendicular to the aisle I need to get to). This way, the girls could stay with the cart, and I could still see them.
“Now listen, you two,” I told them in Stern Mommy Voice #5, “stay right here and don’t move a muscle. That means: do not move. You can see me from here, and I’ll just be a minute, OK?”
Both sets of blue eyes were appropriately sober. Their little heads nodded in unison.
“NO moving,” I repeated.
As I walked over to what I need, I started scanning the shelves, comparing brands and price-per-ounce. And then, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Sure enough, the store’s meat manager is walking toward my cart and kiddos with a clipboard.
I look back at the salad dressings, trying to remember where I was in my complex mathematical calculations.
I quickly make my choice, and turn toward the meat freezer where I left my kids.
And there I see the funniest thing.
The meat manager, in his white coat and baseball-style store hat, is clearly trying to evaluate the products in the freezer – and my children are directly in his way.
I hear him very kindly asking, “Hi there, girls. Can I get in here for a minute?” He gestures toward the freezer.
My girls go completely stiff, look at each other, and then look at him.
They are not going to move.
Because I told them not to.
“It’s OK,” says the nice meat manager, taking a little step backward. “I just need to look at those bags of chicken in there.”
By this point I’m about 2 feet away. The girls see me and remain frozen in their places, each clutching a different part of the cart.
I quickly tell the girls they can move, and apologize to the meat manager. He continues to be very accommodating and doesn’t bat an eye when I tell him why the girls wouldn’t step aside.
Here I’m constantly lecturing them about being polite, moving out of the way when needed, saying excuse me when appropriate – and they really WANT to do that right now… but they can’t stop thinking about being told to not move.
And to stay put.
Honestly? It was all I could do to not burst out laughing.
Which, of course, would have been quite socially inappropriate.
Ah, my old friend, Irony. Always lurking.
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