On days that I don’t have the car, I normally take a walk with the kids, just to get us all out of the house. Today we went egg-smashing. Perhaps I should give you a bit of background?
There is a supermarket within walking distance of our house and, since we needed milk, I loaded up the kids in the double pram with Precious walking alongside and off we went. This particular store has small, child-size trollies that my girls love. They each got a trolley and pushed alongside me as I pushed the double pram. Precious(4yo) is pretty good at it, but Cutie (2yo) struggles to go straight. You can see where this is going, can’t you?
First we picked up some beef mince that I’ll cook and freeze to add to Little Boy’s baby food. That went into Precious’s cart. We walked further to the milk case and got two gallons of milk, one in each girl’s cart. Then we got to the eggs. I bought 2 dozen and put one into each girl’s cart. What I didn’t tell you is that we almost upended a display on the way to the milk. And I was constantly talking to Cutie to remind her to straighten out, watch for others, look where she’s going, etc.
We got everything we needed and headed to the checkout. There was an older woman in a wheelchair kind of hanging out in the middle of the front aisle, so we had to maneouvre around her. In the process, Cutie was about to run into a fragile endcap, so I quickly righted her and turned back around, only to hear a CRASH. Her cart turned over, she fell down, and the eggs didn’t stand a chance. I thought they were okay, but a store employee quickly came over to help us and he picked up the eggs as they dripped onto his hand He happily brought us a replacement dozen - should I have offered to pay for the ones we broke?
We paid for everything and headed outside. It took me a few minutes to get everything sorted out in the pram so we could walk home. While I was doing that, several old women that were waiting for their ride back to the retirement village where they lived, were openly talking about me and the kids. I hate that. They hadn’t seen the egg debacle. They were just talking about how many kids I have.
People, I have THREE children. THREE. That’s not 20. Yes, that’s slightly above average, but it’s not like I have quintuplets. I hate it when people think I have too many kids, too close together, or whatever.
Then as we walked away another woman stopped me while she stared at the kids. She asked if the girls were twins. This happens all the time. Our girls are 22 months apart. That’s nearly two years. Can they see? Are they blind??