Mommy's in a pickle

This is a shortie but it is just so funny to me; giggle and point? Ohhhh you betcha Baby. Big time.

Now this is for any parent who has taken their children to the store.  We all have that horror story where we are mortified at some action and we leave. Simply leave.

Mine? Well my son was wee tiny and perched in the baby section of the buggy.  My daughter was contentedly swimming amongst loaves of bread, canned veggies and other things.  She always loved to "sort" the buggy and make it her own private store.  We were almost finished.  We had made it all the way back to the frozen foods.  I was feeling rather empowered as a mom, being able to do this monstrous task.  And then I heard:

"Mommy?  I don't feel so goo..."

It ended in -goo because that is what shot from her pudgy lil face.  She barfed like an open hydrant on a hot day.  My son sat there kicking his feet and laughing...at first.  Until the SECOND wave sprayed him since I had scooped up my little girl and she had puked into my coat.  Ohhhh yes. INTO.  Into meaning pockets, sleeves and shirt.  Did I mention that my coat was tight at my waist so it became an aquarium of sorts; home to floaty bits n pieces.  I was HORRIFIED. I didn't know what do to.  "Do I stay and clean up?  Do I make a run for it?  Do I just crumble like the hash browns glaring at me from the skinny cooler?"  The executive decision was that I footballed my son, carrying him sideways and ran from the market, my fountainous child still "leaking" from the face into my coat.
*sigh*
I cried all afternoon and switched grocery stores.

Soooooo here is ANOTHER priceless tale:

A mother was shopping with her two youngins.  One a baby, seated in the front and a toddler happily tinkering in the bigger basket. Mommy is hustling, racing through the various departments to get as much as she can before the baby time bomb goes off.  Been there. Done that. They came upon the bakery aisle and the toddler hopped up to her knees and began to chatter about the yummy cakes through the wheeling prison bars.

"I would like a cake Mommy"
"Those are BIRTHDAY cakes Sweetheart."
"IIIIIII have a birthday Mommy."
"But it isn't today."
"THEY don't know that Mommy and I bet it will taste SO good."

Mommy sighs and keeps circling in the produce section, desperately trying to keep on track.  I cruise by giggling to myself, remembering these days; ecstatic it's not me.  Continuing my trip, I venture down the international aisle to see instead of a buy one get one,  a baby shoe.  Again I grin recalling the number of times I returned from a trip somewhere, the kids didn't even have to actually get out of the car, when they had one: one sock, one shoe, one mitten....  Ahhhh nostalgia.  I hold the tiny piece of footwear in my hand sadly thinking how hard ( for upwards of fifteen to twenty minutes) I struggled to cram five tiny "piggies" into one of these blasphemous things only to lose it in thirty seconds or less with a wiggle and a giggle.  I turned around and began to look for "Mommy".  It didn't take me long.  I could hear her voice becoming shrill and rakey.  "Don't. Stop. Quit.  Put that down.  Get off of that. Don't climb...."  and there it was.

A crash.

I sucked in my lips and for a moment broke out into a prickly sweat. Deja Vous? Rounding the corner, I expected to find an entire shelf at an obscene angle, groceries strewn across (probably rice and jars of pearl onions or Vienna sausages...you know the EASY stuff to clean up) the floor and one very frightened little girl pinned under a huge metallic rack. Nope, she surprised me.  She had tugged over the deli pickle barrel.  So all over the floor were chubby huge stinking pickles and in the middle of it all was a soaking, stinking little girl spluttering in brine and pickles as big as her toddler arms and legs.  I saw mom's shoulders sag.  I heard that sigh and she bowed her head. She glanced around and stared at the door.  I knew what she was doing.  "Do I stay? Do I go? Do I cry here and now?"

She left.  I thought about driving across the street to the OTHER grocery store and leaving the shoe at the lost and found. I had a feeling she'd be there soon.


Nothing much.  A light one.  It feels like forever since I've been here with you.  Better next time. 'Kay?
Thanks for keeping up with me these last couple of weeks.  I'm in the home stretch.  See you soon.
Miss you all.