Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Cleanup in the Produce Aisle...

Even in their long-ago "baby days", my boys always loved to get out of the house...Target, CVS, Starbucks, it didn't matter, as long as we were going someplace. And our trips were pleasant, relaxing jaunts that helped to pass the stay-at-home days. (After all this time, I may be completely deluded about these supposedly idyllic outings, but that's how it's been filtered into my Mommy Memory anyway.) With this early "training" behind them, they have remained excellent shopping partners...so long as there's only ONE of them with me. Take the grocery store, for instance. Derek will walk calmly beside me, helping to select and weigh the nectarines, scanning the yogurts, reading labels to choose a healthy breakfast cereal, bagging our items. Riley will read sales stickers, compare prices, and make dinner suggestions for that week. Taken separately, each of them is a quiet, polite, and appropriate young man.

But throw them together on the same trip, and it all goes to heck in a handbasket (or cart, as it were). Last week's excursion to Giant is a case in point. Without any warning whatsoever, upon entering the store they went into immediate Action Hero mode. Derek dived behind the lettuce display, waving the self-scanner like a laser gun at invisible pursuers (armed with deadly cucumbers, perhaps?). Riley ducked below the apples, only his eyes showing as he peeked up like a Red Delicious Warrior. At some secret signal from Headquarters, Derek vaulted out...and scanned a nice little old lady's tushie. Riley followed his brother, adding a convincing commando yell. (The unsuspecting shopper was startled, but managed to keep a firm grip on her strawberries...and escaped without reporting us to the General--I mean Store Manager.)

At this point, I REALLY wanted to pretend I didn't even know them--give a disgusted look and walk away, muttering about "young hooligans today, and the parents who let them out in public".) But I was too late; one of them tagged me as "Mom". (That's "Commander Mom" to you.) Thinking quickly in a tight spot, I settled for explaining that I had recently found the two of them in my backyard and decided to take them in, even though I was pretty sure they had been raised by wolves up to this point. Somehow, I don't think anyone believed me. Next time I'm definitely buying food in a town where no one recognizes us...and packing my own Zucchini Gun just in case...

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