A friend of mine is out of town, some ridiculousness about visiting her parents and looking for a new house, how dare she? There's a sale on chicken at a local store and she is having to miss it with her escapade, so I took the munchkins to procure some chicken for her munchkin's first birthday party.
It's not a store that we frequent, actually, I'm not sure that Gabby has ever been in it at all, since she was born anyway. When we got there, the girls were thrilled to see a "two seats cart." If you've never noticed these, they are carts with large plastic seats built in between the shopper and the basket. They are large, they are heavy, they are unwieldy, and the girls claim they love them. I say it that way because it inevitably ends with someone trying to get out, complaining that the other one hurt her, or the like. I was only going in for chicken, so I
acquiesced. I needed to get a new buyers card at the service desk--like I said, not a place I go often and they are updating their system. While at the desk, Gabby screams and cries she doesn't want to be strapped in and Kate is yelling that the straps are too tight. Gabby gets the straps off of her arms. Nate sits in his car seat in the basket oblivious and happy. We finally get our new cards.
I proceed back to the front of the store where the carts are located. I'm calling their bluff and they didn't appreciate it. I remove both girls from their seats and place Nate's carrier into a regular cart. There was much screaming and crying. I finally pick up Gabby and head to the back of the store, Kate trailing behind me crying and wailing. I look in the bins with the frozen chicken. I didn't find what she asked me to pick up. I circled around, walked to the deli, checked by the lunch meat, no chicken breasts for 99 cents/pound. I had a diaper coupon, so I went down that aisle. As I was picking up the case, Kate started pushing the cart (with Nate) away. She told me, "He's my brother and I'm taking him with me. We're going to a new home where no one will tell me what to do." Joy.
We're down by the frozen foods now, so we go to look there. Still no chicken. I picked up a frozen pizza for lunch, as this 10 minute trip was over half an hour at this point and still not over. We circle back by that case with the frozen chicken tenders again. Nope. Finally I walk to the place where they have the whole chickens. There it was--I'd been looking for it to be in a bag, but it was in a tray. Success.
The munchkins and I made our way to the cash register to pay for our purchases, the tears were gone and they chattered happily. No one would have known that they spent over half the trip fussing.
There are those days. And I'm sure the pizza didn't hurt anyone's outlook, including Justin's, who found left over pizza waiting for him in the fridge when he got home from work.