Grocery shopping with kids isn't for the weak!

I hate grocery shopping. I loathe it, despise it, regret it. I hate spending money on stuff that my family absolutely has to have in order for us to maintain our way of living (diapers, milk, eggs, cereal, chocolate). I hate loading the whiney kids into the car, buckling the wiggly baby in his car seat in 100 + degree heat, maneuvering the heavy cart with the retarded wheel around people who choose to stop in the middle of the aisles (dorks), and fending off the constant "can I get a toy? can I get a toy? can I get a toy?" rederick. Today it came down to that point of having no choice but to take on this challenge. Grumble, grumble. Does anyone have a recipe that includes the ingredients of Miracle Whip, Goldfish Crackers, and Ketchup? I didn't think so. Let's roll.

I think taking my kids to the store is punishment for all of the times I talked back to my mom, breaking curfew, fighting with the sibs (who me?), and throwing fits. As you read this, my mom is smiling and thinking to herself, "Yes! Revenge is mine!"

I pre-warn Cody that we are not looking at the toys, we are not going to buy a toy, we are not going to buy candy (we were just at the dentist), do not poke the meat, I don't care how much allowance I owe you... you're not buying a toy, stay with me, no you can't push the cart... I like my heels just the way they are, and don't heeley into anyone (shoes with the wheels). The only warning I have for Conner is.... NO SUCKING ON THE STAPH INFECTED CART! I'm sure I left something out.

Today's list of items are milk, diapers, hamster food, and pork chops. It's a simple list. Not too extravagant... I should be in and out in no time. Oh how the Grocery Store Gods work there clever magic on us mothers! It starts off with Conner sneezing and gobs of green, boogery, goo comes out. Of course I am the furthest distance away from any sort of papery goods to wipe his nose. He decides to rub it all over his face. Oh well, now we really blend in the other customers. We then proceed to the produce section... should I get some vegetables? Nah, that's what ketchup is for. On we go. We then go to get some pork chops. Cody obviously forgot the rules.

As we weave in out and out of the traffic, we come to a dead stop. Undoubtedly, there is Large Marge, bare foot and wreaking of cigarette smoke on the Amigo (motorized cart) provided by this shopping establishment for those who are not capable of walking the distance to the cookie or chips aisles. (I, however, like to run to the cookie/chips aisles). She's bossing her kids around, having them fetch the items on her list, and she doesn't have the time or manners to kindly move to side of the isle. I hate grocery shopping.

We are about to pass the video games and toy isles. Quickly now. Don't stop. Maybe Cody won't notice where we are. Oh crap he looked over. I knew we should've cut through housewares. "Mom...Can I look at the video games?" "Okay." (Yes, I caved. He's a sneaky one. He knows when I'm at my weakest.) "Mom.... Can." "No!" "Ca" "No!" "Can I" "Shut it!" "But why?"

I finally reach the check out counter. I've had it. I'm exhausted. The only entertainment here is the on going rederick of the "Can I gets", whining, gossip magazines (look at the cellulite on her!), and checking out what the people are buying in front of you.... hmmmmm, Preparation H, Tucks medicated pads, ice cream, tp, feminine hygiene products. Sucks to be her.

Well I came to the store for these items.....

And left with these items.

As we leave the shopping establishment, I give myself a little pat on the back. I avoided buying some sort of chocolaty form of indulgence. Yay me! Wait, is that a Baskin Robins?