If you follow me on Twitter, you know how much I loathe the grocery store. The trouble is, I love to eat, so I find myself perusing the aisles with my almost-2-year-old at least twice a week. And each time I go, I contemplate hiring a personal shopper so I never have to go back again in this lifetime.
This week was no different. I sent The Hubs to do a big shop on Sunday, and by Wednesday I needed to make a quick run to the grocery to get some blueberries, grapes, and milk for The Kid. And some sugary cereal for me. And cream cheese. Oh, and that triple cream brie.
Anyway, we headed over to the grocery store in the morning and, always conscious of ensuring my child has enough exercise so she’ll fall into a deep slumber at 1:30 pm and give me a chance to catch up on my chores write on my blog, I took her for a walk around the mall first. Once I was satisfied she had touched and licked every surface, we headed to the car so I could put her in her stroller before heading back to get our provisions.
Of course, I’m a good mother and realize it’s not safe to let my chid stand next to me in a parking lot while I struggle to remove her stroller from the trunk of our sedan, so once The Kid had opened the doors with my car key (yes, I taught her how to do that), I put her in her car seat and closed to the door so she couldn’t escape.
Sadly, it never crossed my mind to remove my car key from her hand until I heard a “click” and knew she had locked herself inside.
And did I mention my cell phone was stowed safely on the floor behind my child’s car seat?
Ugh…
In an attempt not to make a scene or scare The Kid, I pressed my face against the glass and yelled, “OPEN THE DOOR, SWEETIE!” in my singsongy shrill voice, all the while praying to the gods she wouldn’t drop the key.
She found this amusing and started to laugh, but showed no interest in letting me in the damn car.
Five minutes, 3 games of peekaboo, more begging and pleading, and a lot of sweat later, I finally heard a click. Now, you have to press our remote twice to open all of the doors, but a single click opens the driver side. So once I heard that click, I ran like crazed lunatic to open it before she locked it again, and twisted my ankle along the way.
Because wearing stilettos ankle boots to the grocery store is a good idea.
Fortunately, I got the door open, and all was right in the world again.
And only about 3 people were standing around staring at us.
I added chocolate chip cookies to my shopping list and ate the entire bag while searching “grocery delivery” on Google when we got home.
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