We were walking through Target last night. Actually, we were rushing through Target. It was late, we were coming home from First Tuesday at church, and all I wanted was to get to bed. But, I needed some items for class– hence, the rushing.
I grabbed the requisite items for teaching procedural writing– peanut butter, jelly, and bread, and we were on our way to the register when we heard it. It was horrendous. It was like a cross between a squealing tire, a screeching record, and a cat being swung by its tail.
My head snapped in the direction of the offending commotion. On the complete opposite side of the store, as far away from my current position as you could be and still be in the same building, I spotted the source: a child. But not just any child– this child was unaccompanied, jumping up and down in the cart, and obviously demon-possessed.
“I don’t want one,” I said to Brian.
“That’s all it takes?” he inquired.
“Yup. That’s all it takes.”
I snuggled up next to my husband as we got into a checkout line, pressing one of my ears to his shoulder in an effort to save it from the deafening noise that was actually increasing in volume.
I talk about kids all the time. And I want them. I want them as soon as possible. But, those moments where just the two of us get to run into Target together, where just the two of us can ponder the parental adequacy of others aloud, where we’re the only two people in the world we HAVE to care about– well, they’re pretty great.
PS– I teach procedural writing making by PB&J’s from the kiddos’ directions (prior to teaching them to do it well). It’s taken an entire container of Clorox wipes to keep me clean today. I still smell like peanut butter. Imagine me being as literal as possible, just to try to get the point across. They squeal as I plunge my hand into peanut butter and spread it on the bread (they never said what to spread it with), and they laugh so loud when I jelly the wrapped bread (no one said how much bread I needed or to take it out). Below is a new one from this year– when instructed to put the knife in the PB jar, I actually busted through the lid… with a plastic knife! No one is messing with me this year… mwahahahahaha!!!