Macho, Macho Man

October 17, 2011

in Cheap Expectations

We go to the grocery store almost every single day around here.  Somedays we even go twice.  Usually when I realize I’ve forgotten something vital to the Little Man’s diet.  Like bananas.  We CANNOT run out of bananas.  Also?  I enjoy being the crazy woman you think is talking to herself until you realize she’s got one baby in the cart, and another pushing it from between her legs.

 That’s not me.  Either of them.  Just in case you were wondering…

Also?  If this were me?  I would be talking to myself.  The kids are just a front.

It’s educational, air conditioned and/or heated, and satisfies my shopping addiction in a way the Big Man usually can’t argue with.  I mean, really, what’s he going to say?  NO -We do NOT need another bottle of wine!  As if.

Which is to say, today?  We were at the grocery store.  And I was doing my daily dithering as to which kid to take out of the car first.  The one who is old enough to appreciate a blustery day as only Winnie the Pooh can, but is also old enough to chase after every moving vehicle within a 20ft radius of us?  Or the one who will stay put no matter where you sit her down but also believes the wind is going to suck out her soul?

After mentally flipping a coin weighing the pros and cons of each option, I decided two things.

1.  I was done with trying to fit groceries in around the infant carrier in the back of the grocery cart.  The Little Miss was going to learn to ride up front.  Sure, she may not exactly be a “supported sitter” yet, but that was what those harness straps on my fancy shopping cart cover are for, right??

2.  I’d take the Little Miss out first.  I’d rather a few more hours of therapy down the road to deal with her fear of the wind than a few hours in the ER explaining to the Little Man how his beloved trucks had flattened him like a pancake.

So I grabbed a cart conveniently parked between a couple of SUVs each bigger than my house, tied the shopping cart cover to its front seat, positioned it directly next to my car, and went to extract the Little Miss from her infant carrier.

And in the thirty-two seconds it took for me to do that?  The cart rolled away.

And not just a little away.  I’m talking half-way across the parking lot.  Which was on a slight down hill slope.  Which meant that gleaming mesh of rusted metal was gaining speed as it hurtled towards the only car in the lot worth more than the Big Man’s life insurance.

And so, for one of the few times since I took up running as a hobby, I ran.  With the Little Miss clutched to my chest, the soul-sucking wind whistling past our ears, I did an all out dash across the parking lot to grab that blasted cart.  At which point, the wind having died down now that I was no longer rushing through it, I heard it.


And not just a single-I’m-trying-to-contain-it-but-just-can’t-help-it laugh.

No this?  Was a gut-busting, pants-wetting guffaw.  The kind of laugh you only hear on America’s Funniest Home Videos when a little boy oh so sweetly swings at his TBall and lands a home run on his dear old dad’s crotch instead.

Apparently, my cart’s escape attempt had not gone unnoticed.  Certainly not by the 50yr old, leather-clad biker it went RIGHT PAST.  The 50yr old, leather-clad biker who had just stood there, watching as my cart rolled RIGHT PAST him.  Watching as I, infant in arms, raced after it.  As it rolled RIGHT PAST HIM.

The 50yr old, leather-clad biker who was too tough and manly standing next to his tricked-out, mud spattered Harley to reach out and grab a runaway shopping cart for the frazzled mother of two before she had to dodge traffic to retrieve the cart that was coasting RIGHT PAST HIM.

The 50yr old, leather-clad biker who, once he finished jiggling like a bowl full of jelly, straddled his macho Hog, revved the engine, and almost managed to mute the volume before his favorite Broadway showtunes rang out throughout the parking lot.


NSC October 17, 2011 at 9:24 am

I approve of your life descision on which kid to break out first. Shopping cart rolling away? Would totally happen to me too.

Sigh…you totally just reminded me how badly I need to grocery shop, and how badly I want to stay home and NOT shop for groceries.

Domesticated Gal October 17, 2011 at 9:50 am

I hear, in some new fangled places, they have services that Deliver your groceries to you. I believe these places are located in such strange lands as L.A. and the moon. But a girl can dream, can’t she??

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