For those of you who may not have a child who feels compelled to open every single door in the frozen food aisle, or who must wait in the airlock between the two sets of automatic doors until both are closed for at least five seconds before proceeding into the store, or who may very occasionally attempt to shoplift a garden cart, you probably do not understand the weight that simple sentence carries.
I took David to Target and I lived to tell the tale.
During the break between summer school and the start of first grade, we have been trying to take David places out of his comfort zone and Target certainly fits into that category. Plus, I had quite a bit of shopping to do—a two column list which, in my compulsive list making code means both non-food and food items. This time I had classified my list—things I absolutely had to buy now and things that could wait if David needed to leave before we were finished.
David usually tries to sprint through the store at warp speed, while I run along behind, red-faced and out of breath, grabbing things off the shelves and flinging them into the cart. So, I decided to buy him some popcorn to slow him down a tad—oh, and a mocha for me to speed me up.
But, this time David decided he was going to push the cart and I was not allowed to have my hands anywhere near it. And he made the announcement early. "I pushing cart SLOOOWLY."
I am happy to report that we made it through the entire list, even though it may have been at a snail's pace. David did see through my subterfuge, however, when I coaxed him into the school supply aisle under the guise of looking at some notebooks for Andrew. He got a little nervous when he saw me pick up a SpongeBob backpack that closely resembles last year's SpongeBob backpack.
|The new. SpongeBob is older, wiser and apparently in need of bifocals.|
David does not want a new backpack, even though his old one is dirty from a year of being thrown on the floor of the school bus. And when I paused to pick up a matching SpongeBob lunch bag, David decided he'd had enough and announced loudly, "I backing it up!" He proceeded to back the cart out of the aisle while imitating the noise a truck makes in reverse, "BEEP...BEEP...BEEP."
I threw the new backpack and lunch bag into the cart, insisting that Andrew probably wants them for seventh grade.
They have been sitting in the corner of my family room ever since and, in a daring moment of commitment, I have removed the tags. In two weeks, someone will be sporting new SpongeBob gear.
Do you think that backpack might be big enough to hold my laptap?