You thought I learned my lesson after that last Target fiasco, didn't you? Well I didn't. I was bored this afternoon. (Okay, well I'm never truly bored, so I guess I was just...in need of new scenery.) 9 times out of 10 that means a trip to Target. I really, really, really just like Target. I like strolling around, aisle after aisle, looking at all the neat things I've seen a thousand times before. I even like Target if I'm not buying anything.... Ah HA HA HAA! Aaah hee hee ee....Right. Like THAT ever happens!
So I anxiously waited for the trio to wake up from naps and then with an extra spring in my step, changed 3 diapers, put on 6 shoes and packed the 'ol Suburban full of babies. (And the quad stroller which I nearly forgot.) THAT would've really put a damper on my fun trip.
I did actually have important things to get today. Things like diapers, and hairspray and conditioner. So we found all those things and then concluded our trip in the dollar section. I got each boy a truck and Hunter a roll of wrapping paper. (Hey, she didn't know it was really for me.) Well, thankfully, it was the end of the road because they started whining. And crying. And fussing. And I realized then that I had forgotten their sippy cups. RATS.
I decided to get them a watered down fruit punch from the food court instead, but as we waited in the ridiculously long line, they started to melt down. Ethan was taunting me with the whole "I'm gonna drop my truck and you're gonna pick it up for me" game. Except he didn't remember that I totally win that game every time. Besides, surrounded by people in front of me in line, and behind me, I realized that this was no time for poor parenting...But alas, with every inch lower his grubby little hand hung over that stroller, his grip on his truck lessening, I knew I was about to be tested.
"Ethan, if you drop that truck, you will not get it back. You might want to hold on to it." And you know what happened next.
Thud. That truck hit the floor.
And I picked it up, and said, "I'm sorry you made that choice. Mommy will hold the truck now."
And you know what happened next. :)
I could feel all eyes on me at that moment. But I was not about to give it back. After all, I made a threat and I was not about to go back on it. (Especially not in front of the watchful eyes of my co-shoppers.) So I turned to the people near me and said in most apologetic voice, "I'm so sorry that you now have to listen to this crying, but I'm not giving the truck back." To which some nice woman agreed, "No problem. He'll have to learn, now won't he?" Thank you lady. Thank you for at least pretending you don't think I'm the world's crummiest mother.
So anyhoo, we got our cups and I rolled us over to the soda fountain so I could fill up 3 watered down fruit punch cups. (And a Dr. Pepper. You didn't think I'd leave there without it did you?) While I filled them, all 6 Bunchkin eyes watching, the patience they had somehow exhibited for the most part started to disappear. They started howling for the cups. I couldn't put lids on fast enough. Then straws- "WTH? Where are the straws? Are you seriously telling me there are no straws here? Come on people! Am I on candid camera?"
So I took back the cups which I'd handed the kids already (that went over like a lead balloon), set them on the stroller and worked my way through the guests seated at nearly every table. (Leaving the kids a few yards behind because that stroller was certainly not going to fit through the cafe with that many people in it.) I walked my little self over to the Starbucks area and said, in my nicest but neediest voice, "Dear God, please tell me you have 4 straws over here for me." While she handed them to me, some other nice woman, who'd probably been watching us for longer than I realize said, "Wow. You must be applying for Saint Hood."
Every day lady.
Every single day.
As if that weren't enough goodness for one trip, as I rolled us through the parking lot, Colton started screaming. He tipped his cup upside down and ice cold fruit punch soaked his shirt and shorts. Awesome.
So there in the parking lot, I stripped off his shirt and pants, leaving him only in a diaper and flip flops. I can only imagine what onlookers thought of me then.
What can I say people? We're a rolling circus. Follow us and you're sure to be entertained.
And despite all that, I'd take em back out in a heartbeat.
I happen to love the chaos that is my life.
I really do. :)
Oh, and note to self: Put your purse up high when you get home, or your daughter will steal your credit cards and your checkbook. AND your starbucks cards. GASP!