"That Mom"

This afternoon at the grocery store I got the distinct honor of being "that mom".  You know, the one who has a crying toddler following her through the store while she tries desperately to grab the must haves and get the heck out of there!

Our trip started innocently enough.  Sophia woke up from nap to discover I had baked banana bread without her so she asked so very nicely if we could please, please make chocolate chip cookies too.  Of course I was happy to oblige, especially when she asked so nicely.  As we started laying out all the ingredients I realized we were out of stick butter.  No problem, Fareway is only a block away.  So we left the boys at home and jumped in the car for a quick trip over.  Yes, we drove.  The block distance happens to be through someone's back yard and not a street.  Into the store we go and there, in all its glory is a display of Dora Fruit Snacks.  This is when things turned ugly.  Sophia DESPERATELY wanted some, but we have about a third of a Costco-sized box of regular fruit snacks still at home.  Upon being told no all you-know-what broke loose.  The tears started.  "But I neeeeeed them," she begged.  In my best mom of the year performance I knelt down to her level and tried to calmly explain that she had fruit snacks at home, but as soon as those were gone I would be more than happy to buy her some Dora ones.  That only made things worse.  Next, I pulled out the threats to leave and not make cookies.  That actually calmed her down for about two aisles.  Unfortunately, they were two short aisles and then the crying started again.  Attempting one last save I offered to let her pay when we checked out, something that she normally loves to do.  Then the attitude started.  "I'm not checking out until you BUY ME DORA FRUIT SNACKS!!!"  At that point I just smiled imploringly at the people surrounding us hoping they understood.  One nice grandmotherly lady behind me gave me a knowing smile, which did actually help.

Poor Sophia cried the whole way home and was too distraught to even tell Brad what was wrong.  The minute the ingredients were ready to go for the cookies, though, all was forgiven.  Oh, how hard it is to be three.