That Time We Harbored A Criminal In The Shopping Cart

So we’re on Spring Break over here at our house.  We have friends who have hit different beaches all around the American coastlines; we have friends in Disneyland; we have friends who stamped their passports and went to Mexico to build a house for a family in need; we have friends who packed their cars down like the Beverly Hillbillies and drove to see grandparents and cousins, six states over.

(Can a person use that many semicolons in one sentence without an English professor falling over dead, still clutching her red pen?  I used to be an English major for my first two years of college, before I realized that I was going to have to read a lot of poetry written by freshman girls and OH, THE DRAMA OF THAT!  I immediately talked to my adviser about switching to something less intense, and CAN I JUST TEACH PE?  Now I can’t remember the actual rules of proper writing.)

We are in none of the places mentioned in the first paragraph, because the boy is still wearing our Spring Break funds on his teeth, in the form of braces and nightly headgear and all manner of brightly-colored rubber bands.  Instead, we are home, where the boy is relishing a week of SLEEPING IN UNTIL THE AFTERNOON HOURS, and I don’t have to do a single jumping jack, or time a single half-mile run, or insist that NO!  WE CAN’T PLAY DODGEBALL TODAY, BECAUSE WE PLAYED IT LAST WEEK, AND IF WE PLAY IT EVERY TIME YOU ASK FOR IT, I WILL BE FIRED FOR NOT REACHING ALL THE STANDARDS FOR THE YEAR for a solid week.

Because it’s Spring Break, and we are celebrating it with a stay-cation, we are very busy doing Spring Breaky things.

Like… the park.  Every day.  And I had to wash socks today, because listen:  At the rate we dirty up our socks around here, you would think that we were centipedes.  And we hit the grocery store yesterday, which was an event, all by itself.  Thing 2 insisted that we use the car-shaped shopping cart, which is basically a shopping cart with… well… a giant red car on the front of it.  This particular cart is my nemesis.  Thing 2, you see, can enter and exit the car part on his very own, seventeen million times per trip.  I am constantly spinning my head around like an owl on crack, as I insist in my FIRM BUT SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE VOICE BECAUSE WE ARE IN A PUBLIC PLACE, “If you don’t get back in that car, we will NEVER use the car cart again.”  As Hubs and I pushed the low-riding car that only lacked flames and a good suspension system through the checkout aisle, we were sidetracked by picking up our bags and scanning the debit card, and nobody noticed that Thing 2 had obviously exited the car and… well… committed a crime.  When we got out to Hubs’ car in the parking lot, I realized that MY TODDLER WAS EATING SOMETHING!  More specifically, he had bitten a hole through the very middle of a Snicker’s bar wrapper, and he was busy sucking the chocolate straight out, which was smeared from one ear to the other.  In other words, he had stolen a candy bar off the display at the cash register.  Since we didn’t want this to tarnish his record so early in life and force him to be on house arrest so that we couldn’t save our sanity with trips to the park to RUN! and JUMP! and SLIDE!, Hubs went back inside the grocery store, showed them a pile of brown goo oozing out of a Snicker’s wrapper, and swiped his debit card for something less than one American dollar.

Nobody can accuse us of not being honest people.

Anyway, I have no idea what the blog will look like this week, because I just want to spend time hanging out with my boys and doing family things and soaking up these last few months before the boy is officially in high school.

(*cue frame-shaking sobs*)

So I’ll leave you with this article that Jen Hatmaker wrote.  Do you know Jen?  (Yes, I call her by her first name, because I keep insisting that we are BFFs, even though I’m nothing but a total creeper to her blog and Instagram feed and TV show, and she’s never met me in real life.  BUT… I am fairly certain that if she ever gets the chance to meet me… well… we will snort coffee out our noses in hilarious laughter at Starbucks together. )

Her article is all about BIG FEELINGS with raising kids, and listen:  IT’S SPOT-ON TRUTH.

Click here to read it.

Y’all have a merry Monday evening, and, with any luck, I’ll get something else posted here at Jedi Mama, Inc. before the week is up.

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