Lately my life has been a bit too crazy to sit down and blog. It is just how it is sometimes but I had to share this very funny story about my trip to Walmart yesterday. Although, I really don't like shopping at Walmart, in general, I knew I could get the majority of the supplies I needed for Mothers of Preschoolers Moppets babysitting at once so I made the dreadful trip with my two kids safely tucked and strapped into a shopping cart.
If you know my youngest monkey, Kaylee, than you know she won't sit still anywhere for long, let alone, stay strapped into a shopping cart for more than two minutes. Yes, she is what do they call it, my "spirited energetic" child.
So I trudge down the rows of the almost empty school supply bins in the store filled with school aged kid shoving their hands into bins grabbing and pulling at the last few schools supplies on the face of the earth and select a few markers, crayons, pens, etc that are needed to run the show while my preschooler and toddler are yapping at me in the loudest voices possible. I think they are whining although when I told them to zip it, they claimed "Mommy, we are just singing!" Great, if that is singing, we are going to need some serious voice lessons around here is what I doubtfully thought as I headed to the beloved craft section of the store.
As I push my shopping cart down the craft aisle my two girls decide they cannot stand another second in the cart because they want to look at crafts too and they are talking non-stop and making me crazy to boot. Oh bother, I sigh and lift them onto the floor. I tell them to behave and begin studying the simple foamies crafts kits for kids and brainstorming ideas and how to make things on the cheap for Moppets.
Meanwhile, Sophia and Kaylee have skipped up and down the craft aisle inspecting every single item at their ever so low munchkin eye level. And somehow in the background I hear this exclamation of glee as both of their gleaming eyes fall upon the felted butterfly wings. Oh boy, here we go. They grab the stack of butterfly wings and hold them up on their backs and start running up and down the aisle "flying". "Mommy, look we are beautiful butterflies." I scan the aisle around me to see who is watching and I carefully let my eyes drift over to my two rug rats whom I love with all my heart and gasp in horror as they are knocking down the other felted items trying to get more wings off the shelf.
I scold both and carefully throw my forty pound preschooler back into the shopping cart and grasp the crazy monkey two year old while re-adjusting the wings and other felted items about ready to cause an avalanche in the craft aisle at Walmart. I have the two year old in my arms like a sack of potatoes holding her horizontally because, honestly, it is the only way I can keep her from flailing about trying to grab the craft items I am replacing.
The next thing I know, I am in the middle of a chant by my two year old holding out her arms and flapping them and legs moving around and yelling at the top of her lungs, "Look everybody, I am flying! Look everybody, I am flying! Look everybody I am flying," and it continues on forever and ever. I look around wishing I could sink into the ground or at least shrink down behind a shelf as everyone in the entire store, or the people in the aisles next to me, turn around and chuckle at my crazy flying monkey of a child. My four year old in the cart is laughing at the shenanigans.
I don't remember much of the trip after that hugely embarrassing moment in my life but somehow I did manage to pay for the few items in my cart and slink out of the store and navigate the car back home feeling defeated once again by my hooligans I am raising over here.
Needless to say, I will never show my face and flying monkeys faces again at the Lake St. Louis Walmart again.
