Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Target Tantrum


Yesterday, I was That Mom.

Sophie and I had gone to Target to get just a few things.  Meaning we went into Target with a list of 5 things and left with a cartful of stuff.  That's just what you do at Target.  We had just come into the store and Sophie was acting very good.  She held my hand through the parking lot, counted the handicapped signs and tried to pick up the giant red ball at the front like she always does.  We picked out a cart - Sophie requested the red one and I complied - and headed into the store.  Sophie trotted beside me with a grin on her face.  All is going well.

Then came that dadgum Dollar Spot.

Now I love that Dollar Spot.  We find all sorts of cheap crap there.  Sophie loves funky socks and I regularly pick out 4 to 6 pairs every few months for her because I don't care if they get lost or fall apart.  We found 2 pairs of Minnie Mouse socks for Sophie and 2 pairs of Mickey socks for Gideon.  Great.  Now Mama's ready to leave and do the rest of the shopping.

Sophie has different ideas.

I take her hand and begin walking away and she somehow makes herself triple in weight.  Seriously, she just willed her kidneys to turn to lead or something.  So I tried the method of OK, I'm going to just leave you here!

Lalalala!  Mama's walking away!


I glance back after 20 feet and Sophie is standing there.  Defiant o'Pigtails with her arms firmly crossed over her chest and her little pigeon toed feet planted.

About that time, my Mama calls.  I answer the phone and tell her what her precious gem of a granddaughter is doing.  She tells me to go over and put her in the cart.  I sigh and turn the cart around.  The Little Nutjob just glares me down as I approach.  As soon as I touch her arm, she goes completely boneless.

"Mama, I have to go.  Your granddaughter is a jellyfish."

So, without ceremony, I haul my defiant little nutjob jellyfish up and dump her into the red cart.  As I begin to push the cart down the aisle with a now scream-fake sobbing mental patient nearing 11, I lean down and whisper what every mother has said...

"I hope you have a daughter someday JUST LIKE YOU."

1 comment:

  1. Smicabubbles, anyone?? I can't help but laugh when I think about the poor man that marries Lille Pige.