Back in the day… when I didn't have kids yet, I flew through the supermarket like a tornado. Without a list, because that was still possible back then. From the dairy path to the herbs, via the vegetables to the freezer. In no time I was standing at the checkout without a drop of sweat on my nose and I paid the groceries with my sweetest smile. Now I am a proud mother of two children. A 2.5-year-old Thom and a 2-month-old Roan. Believe it or not, I'm still going through the supermarket like a tornado.
Thom feels himself too big for a pram, buggy or shopping cart. We have entered the wonderful “do it yourself” phase. Roan, on the other hand, is still well behaved in the pram. With his beautiful blue jacket and green footmuff, wrapped up warmly against the increasingly colder autumn weather.
Likewise recently. Thom wanted to go outside and I could combine that with a walk to the supermarket. No sooner said than done. After we were all outside with the shoes on the right feet (see here, do it yourself!) the walk started.
Once in the supermarket I see that Roan is starting to mow his arms. Everything is on edge, this is going to be a tornado through the supermarket.. meanwhile I dig in my pockets for my carefully composed list. Unfortunately…
To keep my pregnancy dementia livable, I write everything down. If I don't write it down, it won't happen. Anyway, my pregnancy dementia now also causes me to forget those lists.
As I desperately try to remember what was on the list, try to get a toddler away from the candy and keep the pram moving so that Roan can hold out for a while, an old lady passes by. She observes everything carefully and continues walking.
Thom has also started moving again and with a blood flow I tear through the store while Roan starts to complain in his car. My time is up just before the checkout, the muffler is off and my sweet little hamster starts to howl loudly. Including pathetic lip. Picture that.
Even though it's my second child and it really won't be the last time this happens, I always feel terribly uncomfortable in the supermarket with a crying baby. I throw my things on the belt and try to calm Roan some more. Fortunately, Thom is an angel and patiently waits for us to finish and go outside.
Suddenly she's there again, the old lady.
"Ah, is she hungry?" I turn around and say, “No, I just had a beating.” I turn back to the cashier, hoping my slightly rude response has been enough to leave me alone. I quickly throw my things at the bottom of the pram and flap my debit card.
“You should also feed her before you go out the door. I always did and I've never had any problems.”
I can't do this. I have to bite my lip but I can't.
"Oh! Is that it!? I haven't fed HIM all day today!”
Once outside the shop, Roan is quiet and is back to sleep. I push my nursing pads into place as inconspicuously as possible, grab Thom's hand and quietly walk home. The beads of sweat are on my nose, I forgot to smile at the checkout, but hey, the groceries are in the house.
