That special moment...

... when you are sat quietly with one of the children, know you have to go shopping, so you say "Do you want to come with me, just me and you?"

There is this magical image of a bonding trip full of butterflies and laughter.  For some reason the painful reality escapes your memory (I guess it is like a pain of childbirth thing - it fades and you think it will be a bright idea to have another one).

So, the Dude was sat next to me on the bed.  I'd cancelled swimming due to the meltdowns leaving school making me think that perhaps he was a smidge too tired for 30 mins swimming, or that perhaps foxes really don't exist*.  Plus I am feeling pathetic with a cold so bailed.  That always leads to much guilt - I am paying for the classes, they need to learn to swim etc, meh, they will just learn a bit slower and the money is being spent whether they go or not.  Anyway, completely off topic.  Shopping!

So, he'd given me this mournful little story about B going shopping with Daddy and not him (which I have now discovered is because he turns down said trips in favour of the xbox... nice manipulation there boy child!), so I think "Yes, we shall go and be happy little shoppers together!".

It started out fine, he got to sit in the front.  He got to choose the supermarket (turns out he is a shoddy shop chooserererer - why do Tesco not have what I need!?!?).  He got to read some signs and learn to spell coconut.  Then it began... "Can we have...?"  I started off still in the chirpy mood, bowed to the curls and blue eyes and bought yoghurt and variety boxes, and the pizza I had point blank refused due to too much dairy for Strawb and not enough in the way of vegetables.  (I justified that with "Well they have veg with school dinners, and Strawb hasn't had much dairy laden food this week").

Then came the sweets.  And the machine with the bouncy ball.  And the frog bath toys for Strawb.  (He is very sweet and whinges for stuff for the others too...).  The lady at the checkout was sniggering with:

"Why can't I have it Mummy???"  

"Because I am a cruel and heartless mother who just doesn't care about any of the shiny things you want"

We made it back to the car in one piece, remembering why I shop when I have childcare... or online.  Thank god for internet shopping.

I should have taken a photo of his beaming little face when we started.  Would have been good for this.  The stroppy face he currently has is far less photogenic.





*"Foxes don't exist" should probably be explained... One night last summer, driving home after bedtime, Dude may have been a leeeeeeeetle bit over tired.  He was crying about anything and everything. B saw a fox out of the window.  He didn't.  He sobbed that he didn't see it, it wasn't fair, and that she was lying because "foxes don't exist anyway!!!".  Since then, irrational overtired crying is met with the title of "Foxes"