Grocery Cart Counselor

After a very exciting outing to my local Boutique, my sweet Princess Tazmanian had lost all ability to hear and understand plain English. It happens when she's had a long hard day of playing and fighting and pouring herself into her artwork. Add on top of that she was thirsty. If you've ever encountered a slightly dehydrated preschooler, then you understand, they are a force to be reckoned with.

We were almost out of the store, at the threshold of the automatic doors, when The Taz takes a seat on the nearest bench. Bear Cub bumbles after her, ready to climb anything that's at least one inch taller than she is. I've just deposited my shopping cart in the general area of where they belong. Doing what all mothers do, I start to herd the children. "Come on girls. Get down off that bench. Stop climbing. Let's go. Here we go now. Last one to the car is a rotten something or other. " My tone was weary.  And that's when HE entered.

The Grocery Cart Collector. He offered his infinite wisdom on parenting. "My girls know that if they don't listen, it's not gonna be good for them. They know better. Sometimes just takin' away a favorite toy is way better than a spankin' even."

I was too distracted by the look on my sweet Taz's face to respond to the kind advice I was receiving, so I'd like to take a moment to write an open letter/response to my new friend:


Dear Grocery Cart Counselor,

  Thank you for your recent advice at The Boutique. Your pointing out that your children listen to you was very insightful. Now I know that I should spank more and be more frightening to my children so they will behave in public. I will also write down that thing you said about taking away toys. I had never thought of that.

  It's so good to hear other parents successes so that I, an obviously un-skilled child rearer, am to know that I could achieve such levels of greatness. Fearful, obedient children. That's the goal right?
Even when they are tired, and thirsty and just need to figure out how to explain that they need to poop, but can't get off the bench because some strange guy is talking to their mom (and that would be embarrassing), so they'll just sit there until they either cry or their momma comes and holds their hand and figures out that they just wanna go home because public bathrooms give them "stage fright" and please, oh please, just don't make them walk just yet because they don't think they can hold it.

  May next week you can come over and tell me how you have your three and five year old children keep your home clean and orderly. That's another area in which I am seriously failing.

Seriously,

Nikki H
Mother of Two Wild, Loud, Messy Individuals