I burned my finger making pancakes this morning. I didn't think much of it. I tend to maim myself in some fashion every time I attempt something culinary, so it was par for the course.
I now see it as the omen it was.
I love my two boys madly, but they're not the best grocery shoppers. Cael cannot be trusted to walk on his own power without running off and grabbing everything he sees. Neither of them want to stay in the cart. If they don't start screaming and employ the Stiff Leg Block of Doooooom to prevent them even getting in the seat in the first place, they're crying and reaching for me within five minutes.
Because of this, shopping solo is very difficult. The only way I have found it manageable is to start with Finn in the cart and Cael in my arms. When Finn reaches his inevitable expiration, I swap them, spending the rest of the trip reminding Cael every 30 seconds that if he will just stay in the cart pleasepleaseplease he will get a special treat when we get to the car.
This method results in very sore arms and the guilt that accompanies bribery. But at least I get the groceries.
We generally try to avoid shopping without an extra set of arms, but sometimes it cannot be avoided. Today was one of those times.
It was pouring down rain, so instead of putting a dry boy into the soaking carts by the car, I put them both in my arms and we ran inside. Like swinging two bats when you're on deck, I like to put undue strain on my muscles before I actually step up to the plate.
I thought it was going pretty well until I looked into the cart and realized that while I was shopping, a certain someone else had been shopping on the sly. After returning the donuts and cookies, we made our way to checkout. (Grabby Hands does some of his finest work in the checkout aisle, in case you're interested in watching him work.)
The rain had picked up while we were in the store, so the trip back to the car resoaked our clothes and drenched our loot. I decided it was more important to spare the boys additional H2O than the groceries, so I parked the cart and buckled them into their car-seats. When I got to the unloading of the groceries, I realized that the checkout lady had failed to put our pizza in the cart.
If it were anything else, I'm pretty sure I would have just let it go. But this? This meant no cooking. This meant just turning on the oven and having the house smell like pepperoni. This? This was eight bucks.
I looked up at the parking lot and prayed that I would see a bagger boy running after me, but there was no such luck. I unharnessed the boys, hoisted one into each arm, and bolted back into the store. We waited, dripping and cranky, while checkout lady finished with her customer. Then she turned to me, void of all emotion, including the contrition I felt I deserved.
Lady: Did you bring your receipt?
What Allie Thinks: Yeah, I've got it right here in my free hand that isn't carrying a screaming, soaking child. Oh wait, I don't have one of those. You think maybe you can vouch for me?
What Allie Says: Yes.
Lady: I had them restock your pizza.
What Allie Thinks: Them? You had them restock it? Do you think that possibly you could have had them come out into the parking lot and engage in a little customer service?
What Allie Says: Thanks.
Lady made a vague gesture toward the deli section and turned back to her line.
So I headed straight over to the pizzas, put Cael down and told him to hold on to my pants, and grabbed a pizza. The three of us walked straight out the door and back into the rain.
It wasn't until I was home and unpacking that I realized I'd forgotten the sour cream.
It wasn't until I was adding the final ingredients to the soup (the one that I had to abandon partway through to go to the store and get the rest of the ingredients for) that I sliced my finger open (note: see first paragraph of entry).
Shortly after that, Cael decided he'd had enough of this silly toilet stuff and just peed all over his last clean pair of pants and the carpet.
I put him on the toilet and went to go pick up Finn to make sure he wasn't doing any investigating of the wet spot. I'd just picked him up when Cael came up beside me, stuck out his finger and said, "Mama, can you clean this?"
I'll give you two guesses what was on the finger. The first one doesn't count. (Number two!)
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