Shopping with a toddler is much more difficult than shopping with an infant. Duh, Viv. But, yeah . . . I just figured that out tonight.
Tonight, Dominici and I went to Walmart. He's been sick the past few days, but today seemed to be much better all around. We were out of toilet paper, disinfectant spray and sanity, so we headed to the MOSTWONDERFULPLACEONEARTH.
I confess to having completely lost touch with reality over the past few days (other than puke-encrusted laundry) . . . so, when hubby got home, I ran for the door. The kid followed, so I couldn't make a complete escape. No matter - I was getting OUT OF THE HOUSE!
It's normally a half hour each way to our nearest Walmart. We left home at 6 p.m. Yes, I'm insane. Yes, that's rush hour. Yes, it took an hour to get there.
By the time we did, Dominici was in full tantrum mode. There were no carts in the parking lot, so I had to carry him while he screamed, "Walk! Walk! Walk!"
Then there were no carts inside with seatbelts. Then Dominici started yelling, "French Fries!" at the top of his lungs, thanks to the damned McD's just inside the entrance. So I ordered him some food and me a drink (unfortunately, it was nonalcoholic). Then I found a mostly-abandoned cart and hauled ass with it (well, they hadn't put anything into it yet, and they shouldn't have wandered away down an aisle. Must have been a rookie Walmart shopper).
The first ten minutes of shopping went perfectly. Dominici ate his french fries, flung droplets of iced tea at passing people and stayed generally happy. Until the last french fry was gone.
Then he began to channel Satan, screaming, "French fries!" I grabbed a bag of chips as we went past, thinking they were still potatoes, right? Um . . . wrong. He crumbled them to powder and threw them overboard.
For the first time in my Mommyhood, I got it. I completely understand now why women continue a shopping trip while their kid screams all the way through the store. It's because, well, we want to share our misery! And, maybe, it's also because we need witnesses to swear we were pushed into killing our children.
Even going as fast as I could, we still spent another half hour shopping. Mostly because Dominici kept pulling things off of shelves as we went by, then laughing as I stopped to pick them up. And taking lids off of things in the cart and pouring them out in the floor. And saying, "Hi!" to everyone we passed, then yelling, "NO!" when they dared to say hi in return.
Did I mention we stood in line for a half hour, too? While Dom pulled candy off of the rack and tried to take bites from it. Yes, I bought it. He'd left teeth marks. And it will be HIS FAULT when I gain 20 pounds this week.