I do nearly 100% of the grocery shopping for my family. I like to research and plan our meals. I like to read labels and shop. I know it might make me sound a tad bit crazy, but if I am at the right store, like Whole Foods or Giant Eagle Market District, I am truly happy. I really enjoy the experience. Or, I used to. Then we brought home our big five year old, and I continued to enjoy grocery shopping, with my sweet 15 month old baby sitting in the cart, for about a minute. Soon he figured out how to stand up in the seat while still strapped in, and how to unhook the toys I would hang from the cart. Oh, and how to drop the toys on the floor every third step. Finally I got to the point where I could pull my oldest son out of the cart and let him walk on his own, helping me. Now he can even read the list! Then we brought home the tiny toddler, who immediately figured out how to wriggle out of the cart and how to transform his tiny body into Stretch Armstrong and somehow manage to reach the items in the very back of the cart, turn back around, and throw aforementioned item over my head. And any attempts at stopping this behavior are met with kicking and screaming, which is always enjoyable in a crowded public space. That's right, we're that family...
So now, every so often, I maybe don't enjoy the grocery shopping as much as I used to. And I am trying to give my sweet husband more responsibility. He says he isn't purposely watching me do all the work around here, that he just needs me to
My little guy immediately runs over to my sweet husband, flings his arms around his legs, kisses him, and cheers. He cheered. Where are MY cheers? I always buy this yogurt. I am the one who figured out he even liked it in the first place. I am the one who puts it in the cart every week. Oh, and by the way, little man - I am the one who doesyourlaundrycooksyourfoodplayscarsonthefloorblowsbubbleswithyousingswithyouaddedthelaurieberknerbandapptomyphonejust foryouputsbabypowderinyourdiaperbecauseiknowyouloveitalwaysplaysyourmusicinthecarinsteadofmakingyoulistentomychoice...
And it didn't stop there. The cheering continued every day for the entire week. Every day. Now don't get me wrong. I am thrilled that my sweet husband was getting so much love from the tiny toddler. I enjoyed not having to drag little ones to the grocery store. But cheering? Seriously?
Dear Tiny Toddler,
While I am thrilled that you have managed to secure your beloved chocolate yogurt for another week, and it warms my heart to see you so thankful to your father, I, ahem, feel as though I must remind you of the following:
Yes, it's true that your father did, in fact, bring the chocolate yogurt home from the grocery store he did so only because it was on the list. What list? I am glad you asked. The list I made for him. That's right my sweetie. I was the one who made the shopping list and who very clearly wrote down the name brand and exact type of yogurt you so covet. I made the list, and then I sent your father to the store to buy the items on that list.
But that's not all, my friend. I have it on very good authority that while reading aforementioned list while standing in the Dairy aisle your amazing father had to ask your big brother for further clarification on your favorite type of yogurt. Plus, he called me to double check. That's right. He called me while standing in front of the yogurt case. Who do I call while grocery shopping? Oh, that's right, nobody!
So, to recap. I made the list. I outlined exactly what type of yogurt to get. Your brother then clarified it again for your father. Basically, your dad put a few cups of yogurt in a cart and then carried them into the house. All the heavy lifting? All me! Had I not made sure that your favorite food was included on that grocery list you would be enjoying the wonderful taste of plain yogurt right now. Or, perhaps no yogurt at all.
So I took back the grocery shopping yesterday. And this morning I was the one who got the hugs and cheers. The shopping is mine. Daddy can do the laundry. No one ever cheers for laundry.