This afternoon, I thought I would take a nice jaunt to the store. I strapped in the kids, and off we went. All I needed to get was two pairs of infant's pants. Easy.
We arrived at the store, and immediately upon entering, Jazlyn took a seat and removed her shoes. Sophia thought sitting looked fun, and plopped down next to her sister. They conveniently chose a spot that would block the most traffic of entering patrons. Meanwhile, I was strapping Brody into a cart, dropping my purse, picking it, then dropping my keys, then tripping as I turned to the girls to remove the dam they jointly created. Great start.
We proceeded to the baby section. While I searched vainly for the perfect pants (they apparently don't have their fall collection out yet. Shorts galore.), the girls played cat-and-mouse, chasing each other throughout the entire baby section, screaming each time one of them rounded a corner. I always knew where they were. So did everyone else. Meanwhile, the distinct smell of diarrhea prickled my nose. I looked down at my young son, who looked back at me innocently. The diaper bag was in the car. Okay, pick the pants quickly and let's get outta here. Brody did not like that decision and tried with all the desperation in his body (which was a lot) to let me know just how miserable and unhappy his life was. Jazlyn, where are your shoes? Brody wanted freedom. So I plucked him from his cart cage and set him on the floor. I turned back to the pants, which I had not actually had a chance to look at yet. Three seconds later, I flicked my eyes over my shoulder to check on the boy. Gone. I found him on the other side of the baby section. How?! I scooped him up and returned him to his cart cage. NOT HAPPY.
Back to the pants. Blue. Good. Brown. Good, but khaki or chocolate? Hmm. Khaki. No, chocolate. Khaki? Chocolate? Mommy, my dress is all wet. I had a accident. Chocolate. WAHHHH. I don't want to wear my shoes, they are all wet. WAHHHH. Jazlyn, put your shoes on!