It’s colder than I expected it to be after leaving the gym. My son is whining about needing a snack, my body is shivering from both the cold air and my low blood sugar, and now I realize that I need FOOD too. I quickly strap my son into his car-seat, close the door, and run around the car to jump into the driver side, so that I can turn my seat warmer on. “Dang-it! I didn’t cook today.” I say aloud as I begin to pull out of the fitness center parking lot. The horrible reality starts to sink in, that I will have to go to…. the grocery store.
7:15PM Shop Around Parking lot
“Okay baby, mommy just needs a few things, I promise it won’t take long.” An angry toddler rolls his eyes as if he doesn’t care what I’m talking about, because it didn’t involve juice, chicken nuggets, or French fries. “What can I make that’s quick and healthy? Pasta? Nope too many carbs.” My son reaches out to grab a sugary cereal next to my cart on a shelf. “No baby we’re not getting that. I could make stir fry. Naw that takes too long.” I keep thinking out loud, barely paying attention to what my hangry toddler is doing, but then I swat his hand away again, as he reaches for a can of diced tomatoes. “What the hell am I gonna make tonight?” I don’t know why I’m asking out loud as if the universe is going to magically answer me; and then I hear it. Loud Speaker “THE STORE WILL BE CLOSING IN TEN MINUTES DUE TO REMODELING.”
“WHAT THE FUUUU?…”
I throw my hands up in exhaustion and frustration. “So now I have to come up with a meal plan in ten minutes or less, right?” I angrily yell back at the loud speaker. Ohh but then it gets better….. CRASH, BANG, SPLASH, BREAK, SHREEEEEK! My son, my wonderful angel, has so graciously pulled two large glass containers of spaghetti sauce off the shelf, and aggressively placed them on the floor. Although I’m slightly embarrassed, I am a tired, over-worked, single mother, who’s hungry; so forget those jars, I’ll tell a store employee in a minute or two. Right now my focus is trying to get out of here in one piece, with a meal I can make before 8PM.
I sigh as I look at the splatter art, yes that’s what I’ll call it in my mind, beautiful art that my son used to cover the clean bare floor, and come to the conclusion that I am making spaghetti for him, and stuffed peppers for me. I hurry to the check out lane, trying my best to avoid eye contact with the clearly pissed off employee, who knows my son was the one who made the huge mess in aisle three. I reach into my pocket to pull out my wallet…. “Oh, really? Ahahaha, great!” I sarcastically spew through my teeth. I realize that my wallet is still in my car, at the bottom of the gym bag. Thank you son, and thank you universe. For this is just another night of my grocery store chronicles.
-Will this ISH every end?-