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Do You Buy Children?

I have not been winning any parenting awards lately.

I’m not sure what it is, but I’ve been one cranky (expletive) this week. I think it may be a combination of everything going on right now. I’m a little overwhelmed. A whole lot going on, mixed-in with some nasty spring allergies for me and Benjamin. Especially Benjamin. The poor kid is stuffed-up to his eyebrows. We have an ENT appointment at CHOP tomorrow. The appointment cannot come soon enough.

Whatever the cause of the grouchiness, it’s there. And really, I don’t have any reason to be grouchy. If I really reflect on everything going on right now, none of it is negative. None of it is sad or upsetting or life-threatening. It’s all just everyday life stuff. And my class is almost done. One paper left. One less thing to do. 
So, I need to stop being such a cranky you-know-what. Right now (or at least right after my next cup of tea)!

In any case, the boys and I went shoe-shopping on Tuesday, and I was in full grouchy-glory. And the boys were nutty.  Not a good mix, especially for shoe-shopping. Women love shopping for shoes. Little boys do not.

The first store we went into, I found a nice soft bench at the back of the store. I asked Benjamin and Nicholas to take off their shoes and sit on the bench while I found them new sandals to try on. I should have brought super-glue with me. That bench became a pirate ship plank, springboard, diving board, bed, tunnel and fort. Every part of their little bodies hit every part of that bench, except for their bottoms. Every try to get a sock on an octopus? No? Well, that’s what I imagine it was like to try shoes on my boys. No sandals were bought in store number one, but several time-outs were given.

Needless to say, by the time we had made our way to the next store, my grouchiness was registering on the Richter Scale. Benjamin didn’t help when he tried to make his way to the bench by crawling under a display, and nearly knocking over a mannequin. My reflexes have become much better since having children. Grrrr…
So, when the salesman made his way over to see if I needed anything, I snapped: “Yes. Do you buy children? Because I am about to sell mine!”

(Now, before any of you go calling Child Protective Services, please know that I love my boys. I live for my boys. I would never, ever actually consider selling them. It was just a bad day.)

Apparently, the salesman had seen moms like me before. He quickly replied, “You know. We don’t buy children anymore. We used to, but we bought so many that now we’re overstocked.”

Quick, wasn’t he?

While my new favorite salesman made a hasty retreat I chuckled to myself, and realized that we’ve all been there. We’ve all had shoe shopping (or other types of) fiascos. It was just my turn.

In the end, I found both boys shoes that they liked, and that I was happy with. Win-win. The store accepted my expired coupon, and gave me an extra 10% off my purchase. Win again! And Nicholas went to school the next day absolutely thrilled with his new running shoes. Victory.

And no one was sold.

xo Naomi

Comments

  1. GrammieMay 2, 2013 at 10:29 PM

    Your title had me fooled, Naomi. I thought maybe this was going to be a "Where do babies come from?" query from the boys...
    After reading the blog, I was smiling broadly while I recalled some shopping excursions with my own boys. Thanks for the memories!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. NaomiMay 3, 2013 at 7:27 AM

      Ha!! I've had that "babies" question from Ben already. How to answer? Any suggestions? xox

      Delete

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