Work would've been MUCH easier...

Indulge me a moment, if you will, as I fondly look back upon that bygone time (last week) when my family had gone to visit the Low Country (South Carolina) and I had the house to myself (heavenly silence and solitude). Yeah, that's over. Today's back-to-normal agenda was supposed to include "put on grownup clothes, go to work, communicate with adults", but since my place of employment still remains without power after Friday's vicious storm, I couldn't very well do that. So I was stuck--I mean "at home spending meaningful time and bonding"--with my sons. And just how did we plan to maximize our precious hours together? Well...I dragged them shopping. (Hey, I had important things to accomplish! Like: find shorts that fit me without threatening to slide all the way down to my thighs...you can see why this is a critical mission, right?)

However, our expedition to Hudson Trail Outfitters proved to be a bust. (Exactly like yesterday's attempt at R.E.I. This is getting scary, I might have to be...pantsless...let's hope it doesn't come to that, for all of our sakes...) Since the boys had been placated by a stroll around Barnes & Noble and a treat at Starbucks, I felt justified in requesting their cooperation for one last simple stop before we headed home. (Ha! There I go, deluding myself as usual. Can you sense the impending disaster?) Into the grocery store we walked, (Yep, here it comes...) intent upon picking up the few items on our short list. We paused to activate our own hand-held scanner, as I always do in order to expedite my trip. Derek had already applied for the task of recording our purchases, a job I trusted him with as a responsible, dependable pre-teen. (Yes sirree, it sure is all rainbows and unicorns in my little fantasy world...where a 12-year old boy comports himself in a mature manner all the time...) Upon receiving the scanning device, Derek promptly aimed it at his brother and pushed the button--something which he has done countless times before, with no repercussions aside from Mom's embarrassment and annoyance. This time, though, a piercing ALARM began shrilling from the machine...as though we were, I don't know, stealing it, or torturing it, or something equally heinous and illegal. (You know, like "shooting your sibling's butt with it".) Fortunately, the Supermarket Police did not rush to drag Derek off to Shopping Jail, but it was not what you'd call an auspicious beginning to our errand.

Having fired Derek from his brief tenure as Head Scanner, I took over and began to tackle our list. I struggled to locate some things, however, as this was not our neighborhood store and was set up quite differently. (Darn them! I do not need this kind of challenge in my life! Now where are those stupid peanuts?) My concentration was also hindered significantly by the fact that Riley. Would. Not. Stop. Talking. Now, this pretty much represents normal behavior for him--he narrates his daily activities ("Well, gonna go brush my teeth, now. Then I'll be ready for tucking-in!"); he sasses his Math Worksheets ("You think I can't figure out that area? Oh yeah? 6x4 is 24, baby!"); he recounts his video game triumphs ("My midfielder passed across the goal, and my striker headed it right past the keeper, so I won 3-2"). In short, he is one endless color-commentary reel...with no off-button. As I busily strove to read labels and navigate aisles and choose between brands, he kept chattering away until I finally asked him to "Please, for the love of Pete, pipe down." Then I had to repeat the same plea 5 minutes later. And 5 minutes later, with my voice escalating into slight hysteria and a bit of desperation, I begged him to GIVE IT A REST. Every once in a while Derek's and my gazes would meet, and we'd both break into giggles at our companion, Chatty Charlie.

When we finally arrived home and sat down to lunch, Derek asked, "Mom, are you tired of hanging out with us yet?" "Yet? I'd better not be, it's only July 2nd!" I replied with as much enthusiasm and energy as I could muster. (Not very much at that second, truth be told). Both boys continued chewing (in blessed peace and quiet) for a while, then out of absolutely nowhere, as they were just about finished and ready to leave the counter, a serious, thoughtful-looking Riley suddenly threw out, "What's with the gravitational pull of the universe?" What. The. HECK? Luckily, he didn't seem to expect or require a definitive answer to his deep astrophysical inquiry as I stood there gaping at him in disbelief and confusion. No, he merely hopped off his stool and trotted away, leaving me to wrestle with the complex musings of my younger son...while wiping up crumbs, loading plates into the dishwasher...and commencing the countdown until they go off to Day Camp next week. Perhaps I should have picked up some extra bags of dark chocolate at the grocery store--I think I'm gonna need it to get me through!