I had to run to the store after dinner last night, I needed exactly three things: milk, bread, and bananas. I had to go to the store that I am not too fond of, no matter how many items you need, it takes 20 minutes in checkout.Thade and I got ready and he was really happy to go, we grabbed my bag and headed out.

He was happy to be in the car, singing,”mommy’s car”. This will be easy, I thought. We pulled up to the store and immediately he started saying “car cart”. We had to go to the store with the really cute shopping carts that are car shaped so the kids can drive around while you shop. How can he possibly remember that this is that store? “Wanna walk”he exclaimed as I got him out of his car seat. We made it in, and no car carts on the side that we have ventured in to. I grabbed a basket and headed to the produce. Thade happily put bananas in the basket, only two items to go. We walked clear across the store to get a loaf of bread, which Thade picked out, and happily put in the basket. Finally milk, we were home free,just gotta make it to checkout.

Oh yeah, 10 items or less(isle #10), this isle is a rarity for me, and then disaster struck. We were near the other entrance where a little girl was happily getting in a car cart. Thade had spotted it, and immediately pulled my hand towards the cart. No one was at the check-out, so we had to move back across the store to find a checkout line that was open. “Car cart” Thade screamed, and he dropped to the floor, in a two year old protest against us checking out. I picked him up and made the long journey towards a smiling cashier all the way to isle #1, while Thade is kicking and screaming. We checked out quickly, and Thade was beet-red from screaming. Another cashier offered him a sticker, and he usually loves them, but not this trip. “NO STICKER CAR CART” he screamed in the most guttural tone I have ever heard. I thanked them for their vast patience, and we exited the store.

He wanted to walk, and then threw yet another tantrum getting to the car, and attempted to lay down in the parking lot, so I scooped him up and quickly made it to the car. Kicking, screaming, and tears streaming down his bright pink cheeks, I got him back in the car seat. I felt defeated, I took a deep breath, and called my mom. She told me that it was a right of passage, and I was officially the mom of a two year old. I felt better, she always cheers me up. We headed home.

Today I need to go out and pick up my prescriptions, but I don’t know if I am feeling that brave. At least we have to go to the other store, the one without the car carts.