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.
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