Tuesdays at the grocery store

I recently decided that my 13 year old is old enough to babysit the younger kids. But I feel guilty leaving her so I only go to the grocery store. I dutifully leave my cell phone number with them and say they should call if they need anything. They take me at my word.

Me: (Thinking) Why’s my butt vibrating?

Me: (Answering phone) Hello?

Child #1: (Sounds desperate) Mom? I was just wondering? When do you think you’ll be home?

Me: 15 minutes. What’s up?

Child #1: Oh. (hangs up)

I cruise the aisles. Stock up on milk, hummus, juice boxes and salami. Also, I fill the cart at least half full with cereal boxes. I turn the ringer to my phone on.

(Phone rings)

Me: Hello?


Me: Who is this?


Me: We have three cats, and we’ll have to have a family meeting about any more pets. Everyone has to be at home. Where’s your sister? Who is this?

Child #4: Oh. (Hangs up)

Phone Rings

Me: Hello?

Child #3: (sounds desperate) Mom? I need you!

Me: Yes, what is it? Hang up and dial 911.

Child #3: Wait! You know in Lost? Does Kate die?

Me: I don’t think so.

Child #3: Oh. (Hangs up)

Ring, Ring

Me: Hello?

Child #2: Where are all the Girl Scout cookies?

Me: In the basement. But I think only Thin Mints are left.

Child #2: What? There was an almost full box of Tagalongs this morning!

Me: Who is this?

Child #2: Oh (hangs up).

I pull into the checkout lane. 

Me: Oh my god, I forgot Quinoa Flakes! And raw almonds! And graham crackers! And hummus. Wait, there it is.  And — Oh My god — fruit! (To the checker) I’ll be right back.

Ring, Ring, Ring, Ring


This post originally appeared at The Ill-Prepared Housewife. Now, even my youngest are older than 13 and they exclusively text me at the grocery store, usually to ask for cookies or to update me on what their favorite youtubers are doing.