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Two Drunks Follow Me Into the Grocery Store…

June 15, 2011

I love this time of year. We aren’t really a winter sport family. Although The Man would prefer the mountains, I love the beach, the pool, the heat and everything else that comes with spring, summer and even early fall in Georgia. Also, The Kids are out of school for the summer.

The biggest decision we make each day is whether to go to the pool or not. I actually enjoy having The Kids around. They are funny, kind, smart, cuddly and entertaining. However, like any other siblings, they fight and drive me crazy.

A kidless friend once said that having children in tow is like having drunk friends follow you around at all times. I don’t think he could be more correct.

Kids are slow. Like molasses. They shuffle along at a snail’s pace, oblivious to passersby. Going to the grocery store with them takes three times longer than if I’m alone. Waiting for them to get ready for school in the morning is often painful. Dinner? Excruciating. Why does it take them an hour to eat five more bites of broccoli? Just eat already.

Speaking of slow, going to the bathroom takes forever. They have to go often and when in said bathroom they like to talk really loudly. It’s inevitable that The Girl will announce our every move to a crowd in the Target bathroom.

Kids don’t really listen and, when they do, comprehension is spotty at best. Today we went to pick up The Kids’ swim team suits at Augusta Swim Supply. They’d been asking about these suits on a daily basis (we just ordered the damn things three days ago) and were especially excited about these monogrammed swim bags that were due to arrive. I told The Boy several times what we were doing and not only did he ask me (twice) where we were going but was completely surprised when we pulled into the store’s gravel parking lot.

They are often impossible to reason with. Have you ever noticed that “in a minute” is usually translated as “no never” by anyone under the age of 10?

They laugh at the dumbest things. Once, while telling The Girl to button her jacket, she and The Boy cracked themselves up because I said “butt.” Listening to them tell knock-knock jokes is painful, especially when they make up their own. Knock-knock. Who’s there? Sleepy. Sleepy who? Sleepy potty. NO.

They are messy. Even when given an entire roll of paper towels, they will inevitably use their shirt. It’s like a reflex or something. We have a 75 percent spill rate, which is why I usually start each meal with “don’t spill your milk!”

They don’t have a filter. A few months ago while grocery shopping in Daniel Village, The Girl asked a woman why she hadn’t brushed her teeth when she was little — she was missing a few. The lady was mortified and The Girl continued to lecture her on the importance of good dental hygiene. It’s usually innocent, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing.

But intoxicated people aren’t always frustrating. They love to sing, dance and hug. They say “I love you” freely and often. They’re also quite frequently the life of the party.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Colleen permalink
    June 15, 2011 6:26 pm


  2. June 16, 2011 5:25 pm

    I thought about this blog as I ran my errands today. Literally, I was in and out of the car about a dozen times as I went to the tile store, Costco, Lenscrafters, etc., I watched people and found myself thinking about the people (young and old) who accompanied the leader. Octogenarians might be in that category of drunk people as well. They say what they want, don’t have filters, and take a long time too! Your post made my day!

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