Shopping with Kids: Not for the Fainthearted!

This story is aching to be shared...so I guess I will.

Today I decided I was going to start the new year off right and add to my food storage inventory. I took off to a local warehouse with my two kids in tow. I drive about 25 min. because the closer one is out of white wheat (and in my opinion white wheat is the ONLY way to go!). I get there only to find that they only accept cash or check and I only had a debit card (I had misplaced my checkbook). So I left and drove 10 min back the way I had come to a local ATM to get the cash. Go back and get my stuff. One of the bags of beans falls on the ground, but no beans spill so I put it on my cart, pay for it all and am on my way out the door.

As I'm leaving the door opens and a huge forklift carrying a big load is heading straight toward me at top speed about 8 feet away. I've got the baby in my arms, four-year-old (who is terrified of forklifts) clutching my arm while I'm pushing a large cart loaded with food. My steering mechanism is already hampered to begin with, with the baby and the 4-year-old and now I am terrified to boot. I try to back up while the cart is doing jackknifes and the forklift doesn't slow down one bit. I look up in terror and see the driver who is watching me. I finally manage to get off to the side and I'm out of breath and panting. The driver pulls up next to me and says, "Oh, I saw you and the kids, but I guess I didn't see the cart." Huh? Oh well. I get outside, pack my stuff in car. The bag of beans that broke in store opens and beans spill all over the car. Oh well again.

I get home. J.B. (baby) falls asleep in car. I start unloading my stuff and putting it away. Broken bag of beans spill all over the kitchen floor. J.B. wakes up. Put him in his high chair. I try to make a game of picking up all of the beans with C.G (4-year-old). He and I hunt and get most of it picked up. I go to put the rest away and more spills all over the floor. By this time J.B. has had it with the high chair and has wiggled his way to a standing position. Phone rings. Wrong number. C.G is tired of game. J.B. gets out of high chair so it's just me racing to pick up all the beans before he puts them in his mouth or nose or wherever. I lost the race. J.B.'s eating the beans. C.G. is eating the beans. J.B. and C.G. laugh. I cry...and then laugh too. The end.