I went grocery shopping on my own for the first time in a long time recently.
Casually going up one colourful aisle, and down the next. Comparing prices and looking at all of the new exotic options of everything from cereal to coconut water.
I had forgotten how much I actually like grocery shopping, because these days I like it not so much. Grocery shopping with children is like hanging out with a really drunk friend. It might be ok, but it might turn bad at any second and end up in puke and tears, and poo if things get really crazy.
A week or so ago I was standing in line for the self serve checkout and my kids were running riot. I flipped it in the end and dumped my basket and dragged them out by the hand with full intentions of taking them straight home. I realised as I paid for my parking that I would have to come back again later, and I’d still have the kids so really, the only person being punished here was me because they were happy as Larry and still larking about.
I slunk back and retrieved my basket and the lovely lady whom helps the noobs madly pressing ‘no, I’m not using my own bag’ said “They are really quite good compared to a lot of kids I see. They’re just having fun and being silly.”
Yep. I know.
But still……supermarket + kids = ball ache.
Back when I thought having children was a beautiful experience (i.e. before I had them) I wish someone had given me this list to consider before I made unprotected whoopee.
1. If your children have been beautifully behaved all day, then second you arrive at the supermarket they will become possessed by the Devil.
Manic, evil laughter, fighting, screaming, tantruming all reminiscent of a scene from Exorcist. You will ask nicely, you will threaten with a hiss and you will bribe, and yet, those little Devils will have you on egg shells like hand grenades that may go off at any moment.
2. When you contain your children in the trolley there is no room for actual groceries.
My kids fight about who gets to sit in the trolley, so I end up with one in the baby seat even though she’s 3 kilos above the cut off weight and soon I’ll need the ‘jaws of life’ to get her out, and the other one sits in the actual trolley. Or surfs more like. We’ve never had an actual man overboard, but we’ve experienced other nefarious trolley surfing mishaps.
My fruit gets sat on, and my eggs get cracked, but the alternative of free-range children in the supermarket is so foul that I simply make muffins with squashed fruit. Or put it back en route to the check out.
3. Your kid will need to shit when your trolley is half full.
Even if they’ve already had three craps that morning, you can guarantee when your half way finished – too far in to quit, not close enough to make them hold it – that they will want to take a dump.
Every. Damn. Time.
4. People will judge you by your children’s behaviour.
I used to judge people by their squalling, poorly behaved children as they painstakingly read the labels on products oblivious to the chaos their kids were causing. They opened packets before paying for them, ran around the aisles in bare feet, and sometimes the filthy dirt bags would even lie on the floor mid-aisle and obstruct my shopping experience.
Now days, that is me. And the judgement sits on my shoulders like a heavy cloak as I endeavour to get the flock out of there as fast as possible without buying products that people will judge me for in my children’s lunchbox.
Oh, the judgement…. it’s everywhere.
5. Your children will never grab the fruit at the top of the pile.
Because they will grab the one at the bottom that is the fulcrum for the entire pile that will topple and roll across the produce department leaving you foolishly picking up runaway oranges on your hands and knees….unless you simply ditch your trolley and leave without looking back.
It’s been done, peeps.
6. Before your child reaches 5 you will unwittingly shoplift.
We’ve all done it. You get to the car and see something in the bottom of the pram or in someone’s hand. You know you should go back, but you just managed to get out without losing your shit and you ain’t going back in the danger zone for no honesty policy.
You chastise you child, sure, but you take that stolen chocolate bar and savour it’s sweet, calming goodness as you pat yourself on the back for getting through one more shopping expedition.
Did I miss anything? What do you wish someone told you???
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