I hate shopping

I know that's not a very girly statement to make. But I hate shopping. No, let me say this differently, I hate shopping with three kids. Sorry Husband, after last night, you are now considered one of the three.

Don't get me wrong, I love to buy stuff. Usually though I have a plan, a list and a mission to accomplish. Especially when I have tagalongs. If I'm by myself, that's different, because I go at my own pace and do some looking.

That's because I don't have to spend my time hiding from the hooligans, wrangling the misfits or constantly saying-stop that, you stand here and you over here!

Let's see, there's the Bread Aisle Incident of 2011. Or the cart arguement each time we go. How about "toxic cats?" Supposedly the comment on that one is that it's great to be going deaf(he has documented hearing loss)cause you can have fun with it. Or the constant "he's touching me. She's looking at me. Mine." "Hum, ice cream sounds great right now"

The Ms has a goal this year and it's to complete a full train of thought. Dad isn't helping this at all. Usually shopping on the way home in the evening entails the Ms on a thousand different tangents, Dad prompting her. I get tired just listening to it. Hum, like the dog in "UP"---- we get a lot of "SQUIRREL!" moments. (aka her other nickname for those wondering why I call her Squirrel)

I am the mother here. There are days I feel like the warden. Ever seen those moms at the stores racing down the aisle with a frantic look back? That's me, as I try to lose them in the store. The Ms stays close, I lose David a lot.

And don't even get me started on taking Alec and the Ms to the store. I do refuse to take all three anymore.

Later gators...
C