As any parent knows, shopping with kids can be a nerve wracking adventure. You try to avoid the drama, peacefully. You start off with the kids at home. You get them together on the couch. You bring out the diagrams and flow charts. The message is clear. YOU are going to the store to buy stuff. THEY don’t have any money, don’t even have a job. So YOU are not going to buy THEM anything. You’re taking them with you because you don’t trust their ass to behave while you’re gone. So they are coming with you. No discussion. Shut up! Let’s go!
Then you get in the car and while driving you remind them again. This time in stronger language so it will sink in. Don’t touch shit. Don’t ask for shit. Don’t look at shit. Don’t think about shit. Just walk behind me. Questions? Shut up!
So you get in the store and what happens? The kids start touching shit and grabbing shit. Then they have the nerve to bring you boxes and ask you, “can I have this?” You look at them confused. Because you are sure you told them at least twice not to ask you about buying anything for them. Then you ask the question, “What did I tell you?”
So then your mom gives you the job of pushing the cart to keep your ass from wandering off bringing back shit you can’t have. Now you don’t want to push the cart. So you’re driving crazy, knocking into stuff, not watching where you’re going. Then you make the mistake of running into the back of your mom’s heel. Mom reacts naturally and you find yourself on the floor of the store with your brother counting over you….4, 5, 6, 7. You stagger up before you’re counted out. Yes, mom has connected with a vicious left hand back slap that has floored you. Your brother is laughing his ass off. Until mom gives him the death star look and shuts his ass up. After that martial law is in effect and you know not to say another word or mom will leave your ass at the store.