Grocery Shopping, Please Don’t Make Me…

  “Shopping with kids is like trying to concentrate on a 150 things, while someone repeatedly beats you over the head with a plank of wood.” –Unknown

Confession: I cannot stand to buy groceries.

Truly, I loathe the entire act of grocery shopping…

  1. Driving there (Being judged by the two year old as I sing along to ‘Hello’ by Adele, on repeat, the entire 10 minutes it takes to get there).
  2. Finding a parking spot while combating my inner road rage (I saw that spot first lady, you know I saw it first, REALLY, ugh!!!! Go ahead, sure…STEAL MY SPOT!).
  3. Getting a two year old out of the car (“I not in cart, Mama.”  Yep, the tone has been set–Battle, War, Anarchy…help me, Jesus!).
  4. Convincing, pleading, bribing, and sometimes threatening said two year old to get into the shopping cart.
  5. Worrying about the nine million germs on the shopping cart (tuberculosis…enough said).
  6. Annoying people as you use more than the socially responsible amount of wipes to cleanse the shopping cart of bacteria.
  7. Pushing the cart down aisles, trying to mark your grocery list as you go, while the two year old screams, “I WALK!” while trying to skydive out of the cart.
  8. The person on aisle two, who stares at you, or more or less your screaming kid.  He’s clearly thinking, control your tasmanian devil, lady!
  9. Trying to smile wider, imagining him as a screaming two year old (we have all been two and mad).
  10. Stopping mid-trip because the two year old got ahold of a banana and has managed to rip into the peel (the eating of the banana shall commence. Period).
  11. Racing to the self-check out to purchase the mutilated banana so security doesn’t detain the two year old for theft.
  12. Back to shopping, which means you have to reopen tab #2109 in your mind labeled survive grocery shopping (don’t forget the cake mix, or 2 pints of icing–you deserve extra icing).
  13. Realizing several of the items on your list are sold out…it’s the 15th, everyone is shopping too (this is where, SMH applies).
  14. Finally crossing off the last item while making several mental notes about another trip for the items they didn’t have (In my best Kevin Hart voice, “Noooooooo.”).
  15. Standing in the check-out line, which takes half the time it took you to shop for six people (“Nandy, Mama.  NANDY, Mama!”  “No, candy Bella.” I say, to which she replies,  “RAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!” Meltdown in checkout line 11 is happening, scaring everyone in the grocery store).
  16. Having a heart attack as you watch a child in the cart in front of you fall head first out of the cart, thankfully being caught by his mother.  (Sadly, this is the distraction that saves me from two year old’s candy meltdown.)
  17. Hauling your purchase to the car (actually, this part is fun, because you start jogging, then jump on the edge of the cart, riding the forward momentum through the parking lot.  Yes, you are 12.  Enjoy it! And it makes the two year old laugh, so it’s definitely worth it).
  18. Loading all the bags into the car while the two year old begs for another banana, and you start worrying about her potassium levels, surely three bananas (yes, you purchased another one, because you didn’t bury the bananas deep enough in the cart after she got the first one).
  19. Finally, getting into your car. (I got dis! I got dis! You made it, Mama!!!!! High fives self!)
  20. Just sitting there wondering what would rot if you just left it all in the car for a few hours, because now you need to go home and take a nap. (You don’t got dis.)
  21. Accepting while crying that you have to go home, unload, put up and manage the two year old at the same time.


Any Mama will tell you that grocery shopping with children is not for the faint of heart, but…..thank goodness it’s Friday!!!!

Have the best of weekends friends!







Author: Sarah Black

I’m a self-professed ‘Drama Mama’…of four daughters, I blog to (over)share my stories on learning to maintain my sanity by strictly eating laughter in the emotional land of motherhood while trying to keep my husband from running away from the sheer amount of estrogen flooding our house.

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