I took a bit of the money my office had collected for the foster kids we sponsor at the holiday to do some shopping; I needed to track down some shoes, a coat, stocking stuffers and a “Fur Real” Friend toy.  Minime goes with me to do this shopping each year, and she tells me every December that it’s her favorite part of Christmas.  Even though she’s well-versed in this exercise, I reminded her as we went in the door o’ the local ‘Mart that we were shopping for the kids in need, not for ourselves. 

Minime nodded as the second set of automatic doors opened, and then her eyes glazed over as the retail buzz hit her system…I didn’t even have a shopping cart in hand before she’d run off to a display of pajamas.

“Mom, we’ve got to get these soft flannel pajamas.  They are so cute!”

“Yes, they are cute, and yes, we love pajamas, but number one, you just bought new pajamas two weeks ago and a new robe last week, and number two, we are not shopping for ourselves tonight.”

Minime pouted only briefly before she was distracted by a display of shiny satiny sequiny holiday tops.

“Mommmmmmmmmmmmm, you’ve got to get me one of these! In blue! And in green! And maybe white.  Can I get one?”


I pushed the cart onward, resolute and determined that we were getting what was on our list and only what was on our list.

We would make it about two steps before I had to hear “I’ve gotta have…” or “This is so perfect for me…” or “Get me one of these…”

By the time we made it to the toy department after I “no” “NO!” “NOOOOOO”ed my way through the shoe department and the selection of winter outwear, I thought my head was going to spin all the way around as I growled “nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo” through clenched teeth at the request for an IDog, then an IPenguin, then a stuffed animal that is just “too cute, ohhhhh it’s so cute.”  I got a reproachful glare from another mom pushing her sleeping toddler around in a cart, and I thought, “oh honey, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet–you wait til that tike of yours is asking for Dolce and Gabbana couture in addition to every damn thing in the local retail superstore, see how much zen-like calm you can muster up then, sister.”  I smiled at her through clenched teeth, which in hindsight probably made me look rabid, but whatever.

Minime and I both lived through this shopping experience, even though she continued to ask for things all the way through the checkout line…”gum? can i get gum? what about skittles? you like skittles.” ACK!!!!!!!!  We made it to the car.  When I sat in the driver’s seat, I turned around and just gave her a look.  THE LOOK.  The scary evil parental look of I am so pissed I am out of words, child.  I turned back around and off we went into the night.  Kiddo didn’t utter another peep all the way home. 


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