A Trip to the Store with B

I had to run to the store today to grab a few things and decided that I would bring B along for the ride, leaving Tim home with the baby. That way we both ended up with a bit of a break. As I'm strapping B into the booster seat we have the whole Police officer conversation (again). Somehow, B has come to the conclusion that if we get pulled over and she's not in her seat belt that the police officer is going to take her away, and now every time we get in the car I have to explain that we just get a ticket and get in trouble. I am unsure whether to blame Tim or my mother for this confusion.

We get to the store, and despite my best efforts, I ended up with the crippled cart (AGAIN). I would swear that despite the hundreds of carts available, I get the same cart every time I go to the store. You know the one I mean. It's the one with the bad front left wheel that rather than turning just spins around in a circle causing the whole cart to rattle and bump.

So as we are clunking and rattling through the busiest part of the store, B decides to ask one of her big conversation questions. I don't know *why* I ended up with a four year old that enjoys asking big conversation questions in the store, when I can't hear her or think about them, instead of just the usual four year old "in-store" questions. Such as: Can I have this? and Why can't I have this? Instead B decides to ask me this question: "Why are ghosts only at Halloween?" Since the store was busy and we had the loud cripple-cart I had to ask her to repeat herself, so she then *yells* the question. At least that part of her four-year-old life is normal: two settings= mumbling and obnoxiously LOUD. I just stopped long enough to look at her and then explained that we would talk about that later when I could think about it.

After collecting most of the grocery items I needed for this weekend and the laundry detergent I need for today, I hit the wine aisle to pick up a couple of bottles for Hob's birthday party on sunday. At this point I have one of the more embarassing in-store experiences... ever. As I'm placing two large bottles of Arbor Mist Sangria and Black Berry Merlot into the cart, B *yells* out, "GOSH MOM! You're getting MORE WINE?" (yes, on the LOUD setting) I look around hoping that no one was in the area, but of course there are several old couples behind me so now I look like WINE-O!. I try to laugh it off and explain to her that the wine is for Hob's birthday, but I can tell from their expressions (and hers) that they're not buying it. B then responds, "Well... I hope he LIKES it!" in a very skeptical voice. Great.

We finally get out to the car, and as I'm loading in the groceries I discover the meaning of the word Irony.

Irony- when the cashier places the trick-or-treat sized bag of Reese's cups in the bag with your Prevention Fitness Magazine.. and that's it. Nothing else in the bag... as though I would eat through the bag of Reese's cups while reading my fitness magazine, sobbing about how I'll never fit into my highschool jeans again! ........*whispers*- It's like he KNOWS.

The trip home was rather un-eventful.. unless you take into account that my husband has convinced B that shouting "RAMPOO!" at every intersection causes the traffic lights to turn green. "It's my favorite magic word!," B exclaims in a breathless joyful voice as the light miraculously changes and we continue on our way home.