Horrors in the Check-Out Line

Beckham, already learned in the ways of men by his brothers, doesn't like to shop. Therefore he protests. Crying is of course his only form of rebellion for now so that is what he does. He is very good at it too. Unless, by chance, he forgets his need to make a point and enjoys himself. He occasionally does this when the grocery cart is moving fast enough. But if I stop to compare prices or make sure I'm getting everything on my list, he quickly remembers that he is a man and must protest the shopping experience. The crying soon follows.

Makay, already learned in the ways of women by her sister, loves to shop. She is too young to be a proficient shopper. She is impulsive, a quality any professional shopper would look down on. She goes for the first thing that catches her eye and snatches it up. Another cardinal mistake is to shop without a budget. Luckily Makay has someone who is now very good at putting back on the shelves half the things that go into the cart right there with her.

I, being a women, should love to shop and think that one day I might enjoy it again (if I make it till then). For now, making it home safely and with food is an exhausting success. Take for instance the check-out line. The cart isn't moving so Beckham must protest and I have to stay in one place so Makay must try to go and find more things for me to buy. Just two days ago I was in this very situation. . .

I had a cart heaped with food, over $250 worth! Beckham was screaming so I was rocking the cart back and forth, back and forth. People in Pittsburgh don't know what to do with kids in a grocery store let alone one that's crying, it really makes you feel the pressure. Makay was surprisingly staying close to my legs. While I was checking my watch I felt a bump on the cart. I look down to find Makay with a very red face clutching her right hand. I realized the silence was from the enormous intake of air to support the howl that followed. The ring finger that just four weeks ago received many stitches was red, wet and dripping. She had her hand on the floor, I clipped it with the cart wheel and popped open half of what was once "healing nicely".

The next 15 minutes entailed both Beckham and Makay "protesting", Makay and me with bloody hands (mine from squeezing hers until the blood stopped flowing), a new cashier who didn't know what to do with my 4 WIC checks, me sweating profusely from holding Makay in one arm while loading my cart with bagged food, signing checks and trying to keep Beckhams pacifier in to stifle the sobs, and a man with makeup and a headband on running and getting band aids for us. So you see, when I say making it home safely and with food from the store is a success, I really mean it!!