Honestly, I’d rather wait until my kids are tucked in bed and my partner is home from work—after a long day of parenting, working, and cleaning—than take my little bundles of joy grocery shopping with me. Sure, I get that some parents do it out of necessity. I’m aware that Pinterest is full of guides on making grocery shopping a fun educational experience about food and math. But honestly? I just don’t feel like it.
Grocery shopping used to be my little escape, a blissful retreat from the chaos of daily life. I’d walk through those automatic doors and step into a serene world filled with my favorite foods. The organized aisles provided a comforting rhythm, and I could hum along to Whitney Houston as I contemplated my next culinary creation. It was a time to gather my thoughts, choose ingredients, and interact with other shoppers in a pleasant way—like helping an elderly woman reach a box on a high shelf or thanking the bagger for separating my groceries. It was peaceful.
And then I had two small, loud children who seemed to transform into irrational beings the moment we approached the entrance of a grocery store. It’s not just my kids; I’ve witnessed this phenomenon in other well-behaved children too. It’s like some unseen force takes over, and I can’t take it anymore. I love my kids too much to turn my weekly grocery trip into a battle. Here’s why I’m officially declaring that grocery shopping will now be a solo mission, preferably after dark.
- I currently have 37 of their “masterpieces” stashed in my trunk, not to mention a hefty garbage bag of toys I’ve discreetly removed from the house. I can’t afford any interruptions during my decluttering spree.
- I’d rather not have them add items like ice cream, a puppy, or a new video game to my shopping list while I’m driving us there.
- It would be lovely to enjoy the car radio without being bombarded with questions like, “Mom, what does ‘tap dat ass’ mean?”
- I’d also prefer to avoid cleaning up evidence of my child swinging the car door and hitting another vehicle—something that happens no matter how many times I remind her to be careful.
- The air conditioning is always freezing for my kids, and of course, they forget to bring the long-sleeved shirts I told them to pack. Let’s not revisit that “I told you so” scenario, okay?
- Despite their claims, they genuinely enjoy maybe seven foods, yet still insist on wanting me to buy at least 23 items during our trip.
- My store has those mini metal shopping carts for kids, and I’d like to keep my Achilles tendon intact, thank you very much.
- Don’t get me started on those dreadful car-shaped shopping carts that seem to be crawling with germs.
- It’s exhausting to constantly yell, “STAY TO THE RIGHT!” in my most patient voice, over and over, while shopping.
- I dread having to remove all the random junk they sneak into the cart when we reach the cashier—who definitely didn’t sign up to be my kids’ personal assistant.
- There are precariously stacked items within their reach everywhere I look.
- I have to apologize to far fewer people when I’m pushing the cart and actually paying attention to my surroundings.
- I’m in the mood to dance alone to some ’90s hits, and it’s hard to do that with the kids in tow.
- Explaining the circle of life by the lobster tank is getting old, and I’m on the verge of losing my cool.
- It’s so much easier to buy those cookies I stash from the kids when they’re not around.
- I simply don’t need to hear how much they think vegetables taste like “butt” today. I’m buying them regardless of their opinions.
- I dread the possibility that there will be no candy-free checkout lanes, which could lead to a meltdown over one final, persistent “PLEAAAAASE?”
So, if you spot me late at night cruising the supermarket in my pajamas, joyfully swaying to INXS while filling my cart with fresh broccoli, you’ll understand why. And I suspect I won’t be the only mom taking this route.
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