Mark my words: I will never bring my oldest daughter to the grocery store again.
Ok, that is a lie. I am sure she will accompany me to the local supermarket about seven thousand more times at least.
Let me rephrase: I will never willingly and optimistically bring my oldest daughter to the grocery store again in hopes of a bonding experience. Today when I announced that I would be going grocery shopping in an hour I should have known that something was up her little Justice Brand sleeve as she announced that she wanted to come and keep me company. She is the mastermind of the family, the manipulator, the scammer, the sneak. I love her dearly, but the girl is a force to be reckoned with already at age ten. Nonetheless I brought her along on an already grueling weekly task.
Maybe she really does just crave some mommy-and-me-time… This will be sweet, just me and my little lady working together on a Saturday afternoon…
In case you are unaware, I f**king HATE grocery shopping! Every single damn week of my life I meander up and down the aisles checking items off of the scribbled list I wrote in orange crayon early in the day. It is all so routine and annoying. Cheese sticks, fruit, veggies, lunch items, dinner items, coffee, blah. Well this week the jaunt to the grocer got even more obnoxious.
Enter tween daughter.
We had not even entered the produce section before she started in on my already frayed nerves.
“Can we get these?”
“How about these?”
“I hate that!”
Of course you do.
“No! Don’t get those ones, get these ones!”
Stop talking my tiny dictator. I have a system here and you are messing with the system.
Don’t. Mess. With. The. System.
Gummy bears? NO.
Fruity Pebbles? NO….maybe. Those actually look really good right now, throw them in the cart.
Any non-food item gave cause for begging.
“Mom can I have this?”
“What is it?
“I don’t know but I really want it.”
We spent a good thirty minutes in the Valentines Day section of the store lamenting over cards, candies and other unnecessary shit. Dearest child it is Valentine’s Day, not Christmas and not your birthday. Just stop with the need to ask for every single damn thing in Kroger and let’s go!
I finally broke down after three aisles of pouting due to me not buying her a random squishy ball and allowed her to buy some hand sanitizer. We were in the supermarket for an hour and twenty freaking minutes before reaching the check out line. I said no at least three hundred times, called her name a dozen times as she wandered away to look at who knows what, and spent about three hundred dollars on the week’s groceries. This was not the bonding outing that I had been deceived into believing it would be. This was a warped episode of Supermarket Sweep and I was footing the bill.
After we got in the car I asked her why she wanted to come along. Really I had to know what was churning in that little blonde head of hers.
“To spend some time together mom.” I looked at her in the rear view mirror. You know the look. The five second stare that moms give as they await the truth to flow from their child’s mouth.
“Also so that you could buy me things.”
“Like squishy balls, chip clips and hand sanitizer?” I asked.
“Yes mom. Next time can we get the squishy ball and chip clips?