You decide...

Tip: Never have more children than you do adult hands!

I say this in joking, but how true it is! How many times have you been out of diapers, milk, juice, bread, or anything that is an absolute priority (and yet you've been out for days, prolonging the dreaded trip) only to finally succumb to the awful truth that you MUST go to the store TODAY. You can no longer put it off another minute, so you grudgingly pack up the kids (faces filthy, hair not brushed) and search your pig sty of a house for either your other flip flop or car keys (or both!)

After looking for a good 15 minutes, you finally get everyone in the car, and you're feeling pretty good about this trip. You tell yourself it's going to be a quick shopping trip, you're only getting what you need (never mind the fact that you will need toilet paper in 2 days- but the toilet paper aisle is on the other side of the store and it takes up too much space in the cart-you'll inevitably be making another trip very soon- but why do today what you can put off for tomorrow, right?)

You back out of the driveway, only to realize you've left your purse sitting on the table (which of course contains your checkbook) so you throw the car in park, take the porch steps two at a time, grab your purse with such force your stash of tampons fall on to the floor (not to worry, they'll still be there when you get back!) and dash out the door again.

You finally make it to the grocery store, and of course you circle the lot a few times looking for that glorious front row spot. You see a spot just on the other side, if you could only make it before that blue two door sees it...yeah, maybe in another lifetime. You bitterly admit defeat and park in the 4th row from the entrance (not bad), 10th spot back (horrible!)

After threatening the lives of your children if they ask you for even ONE thing, you get the troops out of the car and form the line that strikingly resembles a funeral procession. Of course you hear the normal "I don't want to hold her hand", or "Don't squeeze so tight!" The strides you are taking are about 1/2 the size of the ones you would prefer to take, thus extending the unavoidable ordeal.

Do you really need the cart that has the fancy red (or blue) car attached to the front? Yes, you do. Undoubtedly there are none left (okay, maybe a blessing in disguise-they always fight over who gets to steer the 1 working steering wheel anyway.) You grab the only cart that is left, put the baby in the front seat, the 2 year old in the back seat, and make the older ones walk. Almost instantaneously, the cart exhibits it's value-slim to none. The front left tire doesn't take turns, and it squeaks with every step you take. Just get the milk and get out! you think.

On your way to the milk, you have to pass the bread (which you need anyway, throw some in the cart) and you have to pass the cereal (which you need some of that too, throw it in the cart). You remember you need to buy peanut butter, otherwise the bread is a wasted thought, so turn the cart around and head towards the peanut butter aisle. As you're passing the cereal aisle again, you remember you're almost out of coffee, so you do a split turn in the middle of the grocery store and barely clear the mayonnaise display.

As you're deciding which kind of coffee you would like to wake up to for the next few weeks, your older kids are racing down the cereal aisle, the baby is squawking because your car keys are no longer an acceptable toy, and your 2 year old is trying to climb out of the the cart to join the older ones' grocery Olympics. The coffee is no longer of importance- because now you're children's lives are at stake.

As you finally gain a little control over the situation (and by control, I mean insanity), and you head back towards the peanut butter aisle. You grab the peanut butter and high tail it to the check out line (which apparently the store only has 2 workers- and the lines are worse than the motor vehicle lines). After hearing at least 30 different ways to ask for gum, you're cart moves forward. The baby is close to screaming, the 2 year old is now trying to get out to reach the candy, and the older two are playing chase around the cart (the track also includes going around you).

You pick up the baby, and wonder how any child has ever survived past the age of 6, and then proceed to unload the cart onto the conveyor belt that every child insists on sticking their fingers on. And now your bread is smooshed because your 2 year old was using it as his personal pillow. There's no way in hell you're going to get another loaf, you need to get out of the store now. The kids will be eating it anyway. You about have a heart attack when the checker tells you your total (seriously, you could have filled the gas tank to your Expedition with that amount).

You are ready for this trip to be over. You hastily usher the kids to the car, load everyone in, and succeed at bringing the cart to the carrel. Amazing! You are still alive, and even more amazing, so are your kids! You get in the car (grouchy as ever) and begin the drive home. You are half way home when you realized you forgot milk...the one thing you went to the store for.

You pull into the driveway (yes, like you were crazy enough to try again- just for milk). You unload the kids, the groceries, and your purse in the hallway. Your husband looks at you(go figure he's home now), kind of turns his head, and says "How was your shopping trip- Did you remember milk?"

You about want to strangle him.