Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Moms and Their Words

The other night I chose Luke to accompany me to the grocery store. You'd have thought I'd invited him to fly to Disneyland with me if you could have heard the wailing of the children not invited to come. But really, that is neither here nor there.

I was already dragging my feet at the thought of shopping late on a Friday night when I had to be awake at 4:43am the next morning. And so it certainly didn't help my-end-of-the-week-and-I wish-I-was-in-bed-exhaustion that I had chosen the tied-for-first-place-most-talkative-child in our family as my date of choice.

After I politely asked Luke to quit talking so I could concentrate on picking non-bruised apples in peace, he took to reorganizing the grocery cart for the 37th time. (He had been getting pretty frustrated with my haphazard way of placing groceries in the cart.) But I was bottling in all sorts of pent-up frustration over his inability to keep his mouth still for longer than 5 seconds, that I must have exaggerated my haphazard grocery tossing even more.

I was just beginning to berate myself for feeling frustrated with my son's desire to talk to me when before I knew it, I was proverbially patting myself on the back. I had been minding my own business on the juice aise deciding on apple cider versus apple juice for a new pork chop recipe I want to try and Luke had just sneaked off to a different aisle (more on that later). Suddenly some really bad words being exclaimed far too loudly caught my attention.

Now, I must interrupt myself to admit that I do have a little habit of occasionally using a word or two (or three) that some may find offensive. Although in my defense, all three of the words I say are found in the Bible. Enough about that. I rest my case.

Back to the apple juice and apple cider aisle on Friday night--this lady a few feet away was not only saying some awful words, she was saying them very loudly. Worse yet, she was saying them to her three young children!! AAAGGGHHH. I did not know what to do. Part of me wanted to stand there and stare. The other part of me needed to stop staring. The other part of me needed to pick up my jaw from the floor. The other part of me was praying Luke could not hear her. (A teeny tiny part of me was hoping he did hear her and would realize in that moment that my raised voice and occasional "bible word" was kind, loving and sweet compared to hers and would forever more think I was the most kind and patient mother on the planet.)

I didn't know what to do. So I silently said a quick prayer for that surely exasperated mother and a slightly longer prayer for those seemingly innocent children.

Immediately upon Luke's arrival back to the apple juice/apple cider aisle, I asked if he had heard that upset mother and those naughty words. (He had not.) And then Luke's talking started all over again, "Well what did she say?" "Are they words you say?" (WWWHHHHATTTT??? did he mean by that!) and so on and so forth. Unfortunately I had a lot more groceries still to buy, which meant Luke had plenty more time to talk. A.L.O.T.

After observing that little episode with that "other mother" I was feeling like a pretty good mother myself and I made a mental note to refrain from asking Luke to be quiet, even for a second. Although my mental health certainly suffered from the verbal over-stimulation and my haphazard grocery cart organizing was the clear consequence. 

Luke ultimately scored with my haphazard grocery cart. Fritos and bean dip AND spicy cheetos somehow made it into the grocery cart unnoticed...

Well sort of.

I was so endeared by his enthusiasm to be at the grocery store with me, and his excitement to tell me anything and everything about everything and anything he's ever heard, seen, done or experienced in his little life, I figured a small portion of junk food was an equal trade.

Besides, after the episode I had just witnessed I didn't feel it was quite the right time to have responded with a more natural response of, "What in the h&4#" is all this in my cart?

Which was exactly the term I had used earlier in the week when I looked out my window and saw this...
 "What in the h$%@ is Luke doing?"
Yes. He would be flying his kite with a fishing pole.
But again, that may be neither here nor there.

I'm proud to say that I have yet to be able to add to this blog post HERE with any stories of Joshua and Drew. Clearly, my bad habit has improved drastically... Even Mike reflected last week that he hasn't heard me say any of my "three words" for a while now.

Although in all honesty, Mike probably wasn't home when I may have used one of those words when asking Luke to please get the ________ chickens out of my garage SOON.

I'm a good mother like that.

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