It's Just Hot Chocolate

Often in the afternoons while all the kids are napping, when I'm not catching up on 43 loads of laundry or scraping hundreds of dried-once-soggy Cheerios off the floor, I will actually make me a cup of coffee and sit down for a few minutes. But today when I opened the cabinet to get out the coffee I noticed a variety box of flavored hot cocoa mix that we got for Christmas and decided to try some. But then I was further intrigued when I noticed the promise in bold letters on the package: A Luxurious Hot Chocolate Experience.

Really. It's just hot chocolate. Unless it's going to massage my shoulders and give me a pedicure, what could possibly be luxurious about it. The way I see it, it's only going to add a few more pounds to my already oversized rear end, but after hauling all three kids to Wal-mart a while ago, I'm willing to try anything.

I'd rather be horsewhipped than take two preschoolers and a baby to Wal-mart. But it was either that or split a garlic sandwich between the 4 of us for lunch.

We got up to the store and since Stuart has now outgrown his infant carrier, I was holding him on one hip, giant diaper bag slung over my shoulder, and holding Catherine's hand with my free hand. William was holding her other hand. I herded everyone in the door and guided them over to one of those giant 18-wheeler buggies with the double jump seats attached to the front of the cart. William and Catherine climbed into the two front seats to get buckled in and I put Stuart into the little seat at the front of the buggy, just behind them. But I noticed that his feet weren't going through. I pushed and pushed until I realized there were no leg holes!

What the.... I felt around trying to figure out if it was a trick cart. Until one of the sweet little greeters came over and said "Oh yeah, those don't have holes for the legs." Like it was no big deal. Or I should have known. And there was no other contraption available for me to cart my crew around the store, unless I got one of those motorized scooters and put everyone in the giant basket in front. Which is probably illegal.

So poor little Stuart was all contorted in the cart as I stuffed him in the best I could, which made him cry, so I knew I was really short-timing it. I yelled to the kids "Hold on, everyone" and I took off. The thing is though, the faster you go in those things, the harder it is to stop. So I just flew up and down all the aisles, with one arm out to grab things and toss them in the basket. I took out an old couple and a family of four along the way, but I had all my shopping done within 15 minutes.

I picked the shortest checkout line, threw everything on the belt, and realized that the man in front of me was having trouble with his credit card. He just kept swiping it and punching buttons while the clerk stared at him not saying a word to hurry things up or fix the problem. The lady in back of me had already unloaded her cart too, so there was nowhere to go. I was stuck. William and Catherine were within arm's reach of all the goodies surrounding them at the checkout corner.

"Can I have a Winnie the Pooh pen?"

No.

"Oohh....Mama....M&M cookies. I want one!" "Me too!"

No.

"What's this....I want one of these!" (a lighter).
"Can I have this whatever this is?" (a lint brush).
"Ooohhhh...let's get some of these!" (beef jerky).
"Hey....what are these?" (something by Kotex or Playtex or something like that but I was too horrified to look closely as I tossed it back and told him it was chalk).

About that time, the mute, I mean, girl behind the counter breaks her silence and reaches over and taps Stuart's hand saying, "Oh what's wrong little dude....why ain't you happy?"

Why do you think he's not happy? His feet are crammed all the way up behind his ears! And we've been waiting in your checkout line so long it's almost time for him to start kindergarten. Geez.

So I got everyone fed and in bed for naps in record time. And at this point I'll take luxury in whatever form I can find.