Yesterday Andrew and I decided to head over to Walmart to see if his preschool had submitted a school supply list for the upcoming year (it's his first year in public preschool, so I wasn't sure that they wouldn't be requesting 4 boxes of Kleenex and 2 rolls of paper towels). There was a few other things on my list, and I wanted to just cruise the aisles a little and try to distract myself from our current financial crisis.
And boy, did I ever get distracted.
Someone must have swapped my loving, cheerful son with a materialistic madman. He had the worst case of the "gimmes" I've ever seen! He was running at everything, grabbing and pulling, making me feel like the most incompetent parent ever to push a grocery cart down Walmart's hallowed halls. Finally he got to be too much, hiding inside the clothing carrals, and momma decided he'd be safer inside the cart.
From there, the situation just continued to decompose. He started jumping in the cart, swinging his weight around and making it hard to steer (ever since my tumble into the garden, my shoulder's been a bit messed up, and it hurts when it's wrenched around). He's grabbing at everything, and mouthing off, and basically making the whole shopping trip miserable.
And then he dumped a container of popcorn chicken at the checkout.
And momma snapped.
Misbehavior I can handle, wasting money is beyond my scope right now.
You know life's completely got control of you when you're ranting like a lunatic at a 4-year-old, in a hot car in the middle of a parking lot, while people walk by you and gawk.
But the punchline is, about half an hour after getting home, I couldn't stop hugging him.