I have friends who are forever posting or telling me about frustrating, crisis moments with their children which they face with a sense of humor. Here is a choice one:
I completely lost my mind, and I thought taking the girls to Walmart to get groceries by myself was a good idea. In the overcrowded potato chip aisle, a game of “Kick Me” broke out. The rules of this game are as follows: Bruiser and Ad would take turns yelling “Kick Me!” and stick their head close to Charly Kate’s feet (who is sitting in the infant seat of the buggy.) CK would then kick them as hard as she could in the head, which would lead them to yell out and fall in the floor laughing their heads off. Then they would try to fit themselves in a 2 inch space instead of going in front or behind me. We took out nearly a whole shelf of Fruit Roll Ups with our tight squeeze.
After that, I made Ad stay behind me and Bruiser in front of. That worked pretty good until Bruiser made an abrupt stop because she thought she saw Twinkle the Elf hiding on the ceiling. I ran over her with the buggy. She yelled at the top of her lungs, “MOMMY?! STOP PUSHING ME DOWN!” Every person in Walmart turned to stare. Thirty minutes later I was so happy to have made it to the checkout line. Bruiser’s grabbing at the kiddie toys in line and throwing them in the buggy as I tried to unload groceries. CK is screaming and crying because Ad won’t let her hold the One Direction CD she’s about to buy with her birthday money. Adison’s patting me on the arm constantly trying to tattle on CK. I had finally had enough. “Everybody STOP!”
I grabbed my All Purpose flour and slammed it on the moving counter and POOF! Bruiser had ripped the flour bag open, and flour went everywhere. The checkout lady asked, “Do you want me to send someone to get another one?” I wanted to say, “Do you want me to body slam you?” but I didn’t. I just said, “Tie it up in a plastic bag. It’ll be fine.” Finally, as I pulled my debit card out, and I hear a SPAT! The sweet young couple behind me (who had been giggling the whole time at the chaos going on) gasped. I turn to see CK holding the plastic container of half-filled chicken balls [I’m not sure what those are]. The others were lying in the floor. I’m sad to say the every ugly word I’ve ever heard was just said in my head at that point. Ad and B picked up the chicken balls, I paid, and then we ran out only to be met with a downpour of freezing cold rain at the. I threw Bruiser into the buggy, grasped Ad’s arm, and Big Momma ran like a wild cheetah to the car. I may end up in the hospital with pneumonia, but nothing was going to stop me from getting home. And I will NEVER attempt Walmart with those 3 again!!!!!!!!!!!!!