Last night, after a day spent deep cleaning the house, chasing kids around the swimming pool and a trip to our local library (Yes, they've let me
back into the library!) I decided to treat us all to a little post-dinner ice cream. Because I'm frugal,
read, cheap I headed to the grocery store instead of the drive-thru. No big deal, right? Well, I didn't think it was either. So with three kids in tow we head into a nearly deserted grocer.
On the way in, Porter asks if we can get cream cheese and bagels too and since I'm feeling generous,
read, hungry I agree. Who knew that cutting through the store on our way to procure cream cheese would cause such a fiasco? But there, shining like a new penny, was the display of Pop-tarts! New, patriotic-themed, flavor options standing proudly beside old, tried and true friends, and every one on sale. Myriam was immediately sucked in and begged to have a box of
fruit-flavored chemicals and preservatives.
Because I was feeling generous,
and I didn't want to listen to how Porter was getting his treat of choice I relented. So as my children are standing there debating which ONE flavor they are going to agree to buy, a Judgmental Judy rounds the corner and makes her way down the cereal aisle. As soon as she sees my children, boxes in hand, her lip curls and her nose wrinkles, like she just smelled something extraordinarily foul. She approaches cautiously and our eyes meet. That was my big mistake; never make eye contact! "Don't you think that children get enough sugar during the day," Judy asks. "I mean, really," she motions to the display with a wave of her hand, her tone condescending.
And that's when my head exploded.
I smiled at Judgy-McJudgment-Face and excitedly told my children to each pick a box! The children gave a cheer as they put the THREE boxes of high fructose corn syrup and red dye #40 into the cart and I, in my I'm-the-most-awesome-mommy-in-the-world-voice say, "Let's go get some ice cream!" Another whoop goes up from the children and Logan asks if we can have chocolate milk too? "Of course," I reply as I cast another glance over my shoulder at Judgy Judy, whose mouth is gaping. I flash another big smile and head to the dairy section.
As we approach the check-out, I notice Judy one line over. We get into line behind her and she attempts to ignore the chattering of my three enthusiastic
read, obnoxious children. Normally, I would attempt to quiet and contain their enthusiasm but.... As Judy shuffles away with her bags of (I assume) organic broccoli, whole wheat pasta and skinless chicken breasts, I flash her another big smile and a little wave that sends her scurrying out the door.
I count that as a WIN!
Peace Out!
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