Sometime this summer I ventured to Costco with all three kids. These kids of trips are all about business. Get in, get out, get home ASAP. With a newborn, 3 and 5 year old, I am always moments away from disaster. You know that disaster with 3 screaming kids and spilled milk all over aisle 6.
On the way out, Gemma was starting to fuss and I was hurrying to get everything unloaded so we could finally get home. A super sweet Costco employee, a teenaged boy of about 17, stopped and helped me load the rest of my groceries before taking my cart and putting it away for me*.
I thanked him profusely and he waved away my thanks with his hand.
With the groceries loaded, I turned to the task of buckling up my children. William chose that moment to loudly ask: "Mama? Is that man your husband?"
The look on that teenagers face was priceless and he burst out laughing while he walked away shaking his head.
While he was still within earshot, I replied loudly, "no, he isn't my husband! He is just someone who was nice enough to help your Mama when she needed it most."
After all three kids were buckled and the doors were shut, William piped up once again "it is probably a good thing you didn't kiss him to say thank you. Because he isn't your husband."
Yep. Good thing.
* I always park as close as I can to the cart corral. I know I'm not supposed to, but I don't care. Life being a little easier right now is worth a few dings in the car.**
** John probably disagrees with this. John does not shop solo with three kids either. I win.
Sent from my iPhone
No comments:
Post a Comment