Summary:
A well-meaning mother takes her children to the bookstore. Frenzy ensues, and they barely make it home in one piece.
Details: (sorry, long post!)
Our friendly neighborhood mom finds few things more enjoyable than leisurely browsing a bookstore.
What's more, our friendly neighborhood mom also loves to read to her children, and her children love to read to themselves.
So when her five children received Christmas gift cards for a local bookstore, she was looking forward to taking them to the store to browse and choose a few good reads.
Little did she know.
She should have seen the writing on the wall:
--The time, leaving the house at 11 a.m., one hour before lunch and naps.
--The child, wailing and kicking while she wrestled him to the ground and put on his coat.
--The older, hungry child, asking repeatedly for snacks as they loaded in the car.
But she didn't see the writing on the wall, and by the time she did, it was too late.
In the parking lot of the mall, the wailing child was still wailing, and the older, hungry child was still asking for snacks.
They entered the mall and, upon entering the bookstore, discovered that it was going out of business and that everything was significantly discounted.
Normally, a discount would be absolutely delightful. But the wailing child was still wailing, and she knew the clock was ticking. Discounts meant more things to find to use up those gift cards, which meant more time in the store and wailing that would surely get louder.
She should have left then, but she did not.
The children's section was almost entirely picked over. Our friendly mom and her two oldest children carefully looked through the limited selection and picked out a few titles.
Meanwhile, the wailing child turned into two wailing children--toddler twins, sitting parallel in their stroller seats.
She asked the two older children to play peekaboo and sing songs, to entertain the wailers.
They gave it their all, but the wailers kept wailing.
So out came the Cheez-Its, which pacified them for ten minutes.
Then the older, hungry child demanded Cheez-Its for himself.
Our friendly neighborhood mom sighed and gave him some, and she continued shopping.
Meanwhile, one twin grabbed the other twin's Cheez-Its and dumped them on the floor. The other twin began to wail. The first twin yanked on the other twin's hair, which increased the wailing.
Meanwhile, the older, hungry child--having finished his crackers--now demanded fruit snacks.
Our friendly neighborhood mom was picking up the Cheez-Its, scattered across the floor, when she heard this newest request. She informed this child that they were in a bookstore, not a picnic area, and that she did not carry a restaurant in her diaper bag.
The older, hungry child began to cry.
Then, quite suddenly, he disappeared.
Our friendly neighborhood mom began to look all over the store for him, calling his name loudly. She remembered the strange man standing in the children's section, and she wondered if her worst fears were about to come true.
She pushed the stroller (now holding two wailing toddlers) all the way to the entrance of the store. She did not see the child. She was panicking. She was about to call Mall Security, when suddenly, she saw him.
He was standing in the middle of the mall, clutching his now empty bag of crackers, sobbing loudly, and holding the hand of an elderly woman.
He had told her, between sobs, that his mommy was in the bookstore. Our friendly neighborhood mom had no idea how he left that bookstore and wound up there--in less than one minute.
The child got hugs and lectures and more hugs, and the entourage returned to the store. The two stroller children were still wailing.
At the checkout, one of the wailing children discovered that he could reach some goods hanging on the wall. Efficiently, he pulled everything off.
Our friendly neighborhood mom promptly extracted the items from his tight clutches and replaced them on the wall.
More wailing.
The mom pushed the stroller into the middle of the aisle, where the child could reach absolutely nothing--except his twin sister's hair (more wailing)--but where the stroller was, unfortunately, blocking the way of passers by.
Our friendly mom offered the wailers their sippy cups. One of the wailers shouted, "NAH!" and pushed it to the floor.
After a prolonged period of waiting in line, and an even longer time at the checkout (five gift cards + lots of discounts = lots of finagling), our friendly neighborhood mom apologized to all those around her, and they left the store.
It had been a little over one hour. She was exhausted.
She discovered that one of the wailing children had fallen asleep. If the child sleeps for five minutes, she won't sleep at home. The mom woke her, removed her from the stroller, and made her walk.
From the stroller, the jealous twin wailed loudly, wanting to be free.
On the way out, the entourage stopped by one more store, to get a price adjustment on a recently-purchased item.
At the register, the walking twin decided she doesn't want to walk anymore. She laid down on the floor and cried loudly.
Meanwhile, the strollered twin increased his wailing with a ferocity never before seen.
The hungry child asked again for a snack.
Our mom finished the transaction and removed the strollered twin from the stroller.
This twin laid down on the floor and cried, right next to his twin sister.
The other shoppers looked on, fascinated. Or amused. Or annoyed. Or all three.
Our now not-so-friendly mom crouched down to their level, and--exerting much strength--heaved the twins into her arms, parkas and all.
In her arms, the twins continued to wail, but with less enthusiasm.
"I think we'll be exiting now," the mom said, with a rueful grin, to onlookers.
Out in the hallway, she put the twins down and tried to make them walk.
Again, they both laid down on the floor, and their wailing intensified.
The hysterical twins were returned to their stroller and wheeled speedily out to the car, where they fell asleep within minutes of leaving the parking lot.
In the quiet of the car, our mom recalled the "All Sales Final" sign in the bookstore, and she glanced over at the bag, full of purchases made in haste, and hoped that she wouldn't have buyer's remorse later on.
At home, our friendly neighborhood mom wrote this blog post so that someday she will perhaps look back and chuckle. Perhaps.
