You know that expression about being dragged kicking and screaming? We'll I've probably used it in one way or another about 5000 times. Yesterday I learned what it really meant.
You see kicking and screaming, is an actual thing. That kids do. In public.
I'm pretty careful about not dragging my 16 month old on errands when he's tired or hungry or otherwise out of sorts, because frankly it's usually enough of a challenge when the deck's stacked in my favour. And yesterday was no exception. Despite being well rested and fed however, my son still decided that he was going to throw us a curve ball and make our little family trip to the Home Depot as difficult as possible.
We put him in the big orange cart when we arrived and at first things seemed to be going smoothly. We headed to the kitchen section and started looking at counter tops and cabinets. But then he wanted out. Scream. SCREAM. SCREEEEEAAAAAM. (Curious looks from other shoppers). So now I'm carrying him.
We proceeded to discuss our cabinet options with the helpful-but-a-little-too-pushy store associate in the orange apron, while the baby twisted and turned in my arms, lurching his 25 pounds around trying to get his hands on anything and everything. Now he wants down. Scream. Scream. SCREAM. (Annoyed looks from other shoppers). Normally I would never consider putting him down to crawl on a dirty store floor, but we were in a fairly clean looking little carpeted area (and my arms were burning with strain) so I caved and set him down to explore.
Within 15 seconds he had found a drawer in the kitchen display that actually had stuff in it (who knew they actually stored things in their displays?), fetched a black permanent marker from inside, and had the cap off. Naturally another screaming session ensued when I had to confiscate it. (More annoyed looks from other shoppers). Meanwhile my husband and the dude in the orange apron just kept talking about cabinet doors.
After he had discovered that nearly ALL of the display cabinets had contents, there was no stopping him, so I had to pick him back up. Why is it so friggin' hot in here? SCREEEAAAAM. I tried putting him in the cart again. SCREEEAAAM. So I take him back out, throwing my a husband a desperate look - help! When he didn't catch on I interrupted their little cabinet conversation and plopped the little rascal into my husbands arms - here, you deal with him for a bit.
So I tried listen to what Orange Apron had to say about counter tops while watching my husband struggling to hang on to a wriggling, screeching toddler. He too finally resorted to setting him down on the floor. He found a display of counter top samples and proceeded to pull them out and pile them on the floor. Initially I was going to let him, but when we started to get looks of disapproval from another guy in an orange apron I had to step in and pick him back up.
Scream. SCREAM. SCREEEEAAAAAMMM. I stood there, now sweating, holding him in Superman position while he squealed and screeched and kicked his legs. Orange Apron didn't seem to notice and proceeded to try and talk me into a solid surface counter top (that I had clearly told him we couldn't afford), but everyone else in the store seemed to be looking at us. More disapproving looks from the other sales clerk. Sympathetic looks from a lady walking by with her well-behaved 8 year old. Terrified looks from a very pregnant young woman and her partner. Annoyed looks from a cranky old man who probably forgot to take his Metamucil. Dirty looks from a middle-aged woman who probably doesn't remember that her kids once misbehaved.
I waited for Orange Apron to take a breath and interrupted him as politely as I could, explaining that we'd have to come back some other time (as if it wasn't totally obvious that now wasn't the best time...was this guy stunned?). We headed toward the exit with a tantruming child in tow, fetching glares from onlookers the whole way. A nice older lady greeting customers at the door offered her assistance (bless her heart) and took our cart back after watching us both struggle for a few minutes trying to get the baby's coat and hat on while he screamed and fought us every inch of the way.
Out the door we headed, having accomplished absolutely nothing. I can't wait to go grocery shopping tomorrow.