Dear Diary …
About 8 years ago, I started creating humans. OK all I did was have kids, but man doesn’t it sound impressive when you say it that way. I AM THE CREATOR OF YOUUUUU!!!!!
Anyway … after raising kids for 8 years I’ve learned one thing above all else … I absolutely HATE taking them to the grocery store with me.
It is the … WORST!!!!
For me Diary … the grocery store is almost like a boxing match. It involves precision, strategy, and skill … all with the goal of winning the fight of “getting as much stuff for as little as possible.” And when my kids are there, that is completely ruined.
I’m already losing before I even walk through the door because I’m entering the battleground arena with … the dreaded “Dork Cart.”
That’s right Diary … the mark of shame of grocery shopping parents everywhere … that cart with the giant plastic car attached to the front of it. Broadcasting to the world as I walk through the doors … LOSER ALERT! LOSER ALERT! … Dorky parent pushing gigantic unwieldy cart of coming your way ... LOSER!!!!
And God bless the grocery store for figuring out a way to make that cart twice as big as a normal cart, but also managing to hold about half the groceries because you’ve sacrificed so much space for your dork car attached to the front. Not to mention the fact that it has the maneuverability of an obese whale, to basically guarantee you’re going to be in the way of every other shopper in the store.
So now I’m already off my game. I know I look ridiculous, and I’m doing 300 pound bicep curls to just try to get this beached whale of a shopping cart into the next aisle.
Meanwhile, now I have an evil little devil barking orders to me in the front of the cart. Actually … I shouldn’t say “barking,” because my son basically talks in his normal voice, and assumes that I can hear him perfectly fine while I’m a mile and a half away at the front of this gigantic cart.
“Daddy …. [[[muffled and mumbled nothingness]]]”
[[[muffled and mumbled nothingness]]]
Yeah. Great. Whatever.
And let’s not forget, he’s now in a perfect position to just start grabbing stuff off the shelves that he wants. Fruit snacks … oreos … applesauce … whatever it is that he sees … he can just grab and stuff in that little car compartment without me even noticing.
So now I’m just trying to get the hell out of there … so all manner of precision and care is thrown out the window … while all the while the little demon is saying “Daddy can I have this? Daddy I want that! Daddy can we get cookies? Daddy that box has Batman on it!”
And of course, because I’m p-whipped … you know “Parent Whipped” … I’m buying him stuff just to shut him up so I can just get what I need and get home.
So not only does a trip to the grocery store not save me any money … it actually costs me money, because I end up buying a pile a crap I had no intention of bringing home with me.
And Diary … I would continue to tell you more about how much I hate grocery shopping with the kids, but my daughter has just informed me that I’m “taking too long on the computer and she wants a turn,” so now she’s totally ruined my focus and I can’t remember what I was going to say anymore. So I’m outta here!
Till next time Diary … I say goodbye.