Grocery Shopping

When Will was a baby, I carried a camera everywhere.  I took countless photos of any and every moment that I wanted to remember. About three years ago, I remember taking this photo at a local grocery store.  Bill was working and I was taking a four-month maternity leave to care for Will.  Will and I stayed home most of the time, except for some quick trips to the pediatrician or the grocery store.  The grocery shopping was relatively easy. Baby in the carrier, in the shopping cart, and a 30-minute stroll up and down the aisles. 

I thought of this photo today,  as Will, Liam and I were standing in the dairy aisle of the very same grocery store.  The outing was going pretty well and I remember thinking to myself, "Wow, this is almost too easy."  We were almost finished shopping... a couple aisles left to go.  Liam had been sleeping the entire time... in the carrier, in the cart.  Will, walking beside us, was behaving like a typical three year old... touching EVERYTHING and asking "what's this?" and "why?" every 30 seconds.  He was really being good and we were actually having a pretty good time.

There were just a few things left on the list.  We get to the eggs and I open up a carton to make sure the eggs aren't broken.  Will, instantly intrigued, wants to "help".  So, I let him help check the carton.  But one carton was just not enough... he wanted to check ALL the eggs.  He headed for another carton, popping it open and reaching inside.  I pulled his hand away, closing the carton and explaining that the eggs are delicate and messy when they break and we can't open all the cartons and blah, blah, blah.  "But mommy I WANT tooooo....", he says as he pops open another carton.  "Will, I said no", I said, as I sensed this trip was headed for trouble.  At this point, Liam wakes up... screaming.  So I turned to put the pacifier in his mouth and settle him.  Within seconds, I hear the sound of eggs hitting the floor and I turn to see my lovely three-year-old.  He's got three broken eggs in his two hands and the styrofoam carton squished up against his chest.  Egg is running down his shirt and pants and there are broken eggs all over the floor.  It was only one dozen eggs, but by the looks of the mess it seemed like at least two or three.  (I instantly regretted my decision to leave the diaper bag... and baby wipes... in the car.)  The two of us are just staring a each other... eyes locked.  I'm thinking, "Calm down... don't yell at him, don't yell at him...."  And, actually, it was pretty easy to calm down.  This is because the look on his face was saying, "Oh crap, I really screwed up... don't get mad at me, don't get mad at me...."  Liam, thank God, was no longer crying and I was able to kneel down next to Will.  

"What did mommy say?"

"Don't touch the eggs."

"And what did you do?"

"Touched the eggs."

"Is that being a 'good listener'?"

"No..."

So he was pretty much covered in egg and I could see his eyes filling up with tears.  My anger had completely dissipated because I could tell how remorseful and nervous he seemed.  I started putting all the broken shells into the carton (yes, all 12 were broken) and I was looking around for an employee.  Within a minute or two, someone arrived.  Her name tag read "Rhona".   I apologized and she said not to worry and that it happens all the time.  She said that she'd stay with the mess until maintenance arrived and that we could be on our way.  Rhona was really nice... too nice.  I asked her if she could please explain the rule about little kids not being allowed to touch the eggs when they go shopping with their mommies.  (This is because for some reason, my son always seems to listen better when someone other than me lays down the rules.)  So the nice (too nice) employee, Rhona, blows me off and pretty much says "that's okay...don't worry about it...just an accident" about 10 more times.

We were only in the store for about fifteen more minutes as I tried to clean Will up as best as I could and finish up the shopping.  Liam went soundly back to sleep and Will, although a bit shaken up, was pretty much back to normal.  As I was loading the groceries into the car and Will was strapped into his car seat, I decided to try and get some closure on the whole egg mess.  

"Next time, you're going to listen to mommy and you're not going to touch the eggs, right?"

"It was just an accident, mommy."

"Yes, but remember I said not to touch the eggs."

"It's okay, mommy."

"If you had listened to mommy, then the eggs wouldn't have broken."

"But it's okay mommy.  We didn't get in trouble.  The lady said it was okay.  It was just an accident."

"But no more playing with the eggs, right."

"Mommy... I know (like he had just gotten a great idea) ...next time we'll just be more careful."

Reasoning with a toddler who's covered in egg and overdue for a nap is a losing battle... and Rhona didn't help any.  Liam was awake again and crying for his next bottle.  As we returned home, I spent the drive taking deep breaths and prioritizing the following activities:  clean egg off 3-year-old, feed & change baby, put freezer/fridge items away, put 3-year-old down for nap. 

I was also wishing that I would have had my camera with me at the store (along with the baby wipes).