I wrote this story way back when things were normal and taking kids to the grocery store with you didn't require ensuring that every child had a mask that they would be content wearing for longer than thirty seconds. (Thank God for curbside pick-up.) I decided to share it here, because it's Thanksgiving-themed and it made my husband laugh out loud, which felt like a good endorsement. I hope it makes you laugh too, because these days we could all use a little more laughter. Enjoy and have a blessed Thanksgiving!
“Officer,” Emily sighed, “I bet you’re wondering how a 34-year-old mother of four ended up in the back of your squad car the day before Thanksgiving.” She looked up at the handsome officer who was staring at her with inquisitive eyes.
“Why, yes, I am,” he agreed. He seemed to find this whole thing amusing, which rankled her. “All I’ve got here on my pad is your quote that, ‘when the shopping bag ripped it was the last straw.’”
Emily felt her face flush. “You think I’m silly.” He stayed silent, neither agreeing or disagreeing. Perhaps, sensing neither answer would win him any points. “I’m not crazy, you know.” She finally said, when it was evident he was not going to speak. “This is all just a big misunderstanding. I was not trying to steal that woman’s car.” She laughed semi-hysterically.
“I didn’t think you were,” again amusement played on his features and Emily felt a burst of anger.
“It was the kids’ fault!” She cried. “It all started with them!” She bit the inside of her cheek to calm herself, aware she sounded like a petulant child. “I mean, alright, perhaps not totally their fault,” she amended. “To be honest, I suppose I’m partly to blame. I don’t know what I was thinking going grocery shopping the day before Thanksgiving with four kids. Frankly that’s four kids too many to take to the grocery store, ask any mother.” She eyed him, as if waiting for him to challenge her words, but his face was now impassive. “And of course, to top all of that off, it’s basically a holiday today, which means there are loads of people off work and invading the stay-at-home mother’s domain.”
“The stay-at-home mother’s domain?” He echoed questioningly.
“Yes, the grocery store of course!” She cried, gesturing to the building behind them. “We stay-at-home moms are used to the luxury of shorter lines and sparsely populated aisles thanks to our freedom to go to the grocery store in the middle of the work day, but on holidays…” Emily slapped her knee in disgust, “On holidays you working people stride in as if you own the place!” Now the officer was biting his lip, clearly holding in laughter. “It’s not funny!”
“I’m so sorry,” he said quickly. “You’re right, it’s not funny at all to imagine the working class storming the grocery store and forcing stay-at-home mothers to surrender their land.”
“I said domain, not land,” Emily said icily. “And laugh all you want, but if I brought a bunch of mothers to your police station when you were trying to work you wouldn’t like it very much.” She was speaking nonsense she knew, but in all the kerfuffle she hadn’t been able to eat any of the chocolate she’d bought as a reward for making it through the shopping trip, and now her blood sugar was low.
“I can think of one mother I’d like to see at my police station,” he quipped.
“Are you flirting with me?” Emily said in outrage.
“No, of course not. I’m not an idiot. Please, continue with your story.”
Emily studied him for a minute before going on. “Well, I should also mention that I was already in a foul mood when we walked into the store, because the kids insisted on listening to that awful Justin Timberlake song Can’t Stop the Feeling. You know the one? I used to love it when it first came out, but then the kids made us listen to it hundreds of times a day, every day for a month and now all I want is to stop the freaking feeling!”
“You could’ve turned the music off you know.”
Emily scowled at him. “That’s such a man thing to say. You could’ve turned the music off,” She imitated him. “And then what, listened to them whine the whole ride. No, thank you.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t have whined the whole ride.”
“Not for you, maybe,” She retorted, “But for dear old mom it’s a whole different story. Anyways, where was I? Oh yes, so I was already in a bad mood and then we walked into the crowded store, and immediately Fiona started whining about having to go to the bathroom. Mind you I told them all to go before we left, well except Evan obviously, since he’s in diapers, but everyone else was told to go. But Fiona clearly didn’t listen. So, first thing into the store we had to head to the bathroom, which was obviously filthy. Fiona insisted I wipe her, even though she’s six and heaven knows her teacher doesn’t wipe her at school, so my back was turned to the other three for a minute. When I finished and turned around, I didn’t see Bree anywhere. Would you like to know where she was? I’ll tell you. She had wondered into the other stall and was sucking on the toilet flusher.”
A laugh slipped out from the officer’s mouth and Emily glared at him. “It’s not funny. Can you imagine the germs on that thing. People pooping, then touching it. People flushing with their shoe. Disgusting! And there was three-year-old Bree mouthing away on it. I knew it was a mistake to take her pacifier away.”
“Three is a little old for a pacifier,” the officer commented, drawing another glare from Emily.
“Easy for you to say, you don’t have to spend all day with her.”
“No, that task is yours alone,” he agreed. “And you’re a saint for doing it.”
“Don’t patronize me,” Emily straightened in her seat. “Well obviously I didn’t laugh like you did, instead I screeched so loudly that Evan started crying and I couldn’t get him calmed down for five whole minutes. By the time we made it out of the bathroom we’d been in there for almost twenty minutes. I hadn’t even started my shopping and I was already frazzled. I had a big list too, what with hosting Thanksgiving tomorrow. I had to make sure I got all the ingredients for the stupid family sweet potatoes. Can’t have a Thanksgiving without the Fenton family sweet potatoes.”
“Of course not,” the officer agreed, ignoring her sarcasm.
“Anyways, we got out of the bathroom and I started doing my shopping, but by this time everyone was hungry, even though they ate a snack on the way to the grocery store. Apparently, children are incapable of going more then twenty minutes at a time without eating. I didn’t know that before I had children. Someone really should warn you.”
“Warn you that kids need to eat?” He clarified.
“Need is a strong word,” she retorted, “considering that when Vivian was a year old, she went on that insane hunger strike, all because I wouldn’t let her just eat goldfish and cheerios. I think she lived on milk alone for four days. But now that she’s seven supposedly she needs to eat every twenty minutes. As do the whole lot of them. Their demand for snacks meant I had to abandon my produce needs and head to the snack aisles, because God forbid they eat an apple while we shop, no it has to be some sort of carbohydrate.”
“Let me guess, goldfish?”
Emily lifted her chin, ignoring the teasing in his tone. “Yes, I did in fact feed them goldfish. There’s a trail of orange crumbs inside the store that attests to that, not to mention the large pile that hopefully someone has swept up by now.”
“Large pile?”
“Oh, did I not mention that when Fiona was holding the bag of goldfish, Bree tried to yank it out of her hand and the whole bag ended up all over the floor? I think one landed in a woman’s hood on the way down, but I can’t be sure.” The officer chuckled and even Emily had to hold in a laugh. Now that she was removed from the situation, she could see the humor…slightly. “Then I had to abandon my list yet again and go find someone to tell about the goldfish mess, but while I was distracted Evan managed to finagle himself out of the front seat of the cart and into the main basket. But he didn’t sit on the empty space there, no, he sat on top of the bag of cranberries I’d already gotten and his whole butt got covered with cranberry juice. Plus, there was now cranberry juice dripping from my cart. A fact that Vivian insisted on pointing out to me every aisle we went down. Thankfully, Evan didn’t seem bothered by his newly red pants, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to remove the stain.”
“He has other pants.”
“Yes, but still. That was only the second time he’d worn these pants! But anyways, now I was walking through the store, dripping red juice all over the floor and trying to keep Evan from climbing out of the cart, and I still hadn’t even gotten half of what I needed. Thankfully Evan started playing with the squished cranberries, which I know I shouldn’t have let him do, but he was finally being quiet and staying still and he was already dirty anyways. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for Bree to notice what Evan was doing and then she wanted to join in. Stupidly I gave in and put her in the cart too, thinking I could move twice as fast with the younger two contained. Soon they were both covered in sticky red juice, but at least I was finally getting my shopping done. I was three-quarters of the way through my list, when I realized Fiona wasn’t with us.”
“Fiona wasn’t with you?” The officer sat up, looking suddenly concerned.
Emily blushed deeply and looked down at her knees. “Don’t freak out. It really wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“You lost Fiona?” The officer looked angry now.
“It was only for a few minutes. Clearly she’s fine.”
“Emily you need to be more careful. There are crazy psychos out there who take children from stores!”
“I know!” She scowled at him. “It was a mistake. I’m not perfect. I found her quickly enough. You should’ve heard me screaming for her. Everyone dropped their shopping and started looking for her with me. It wasn’t a minute later when I saw her.”
“Where was she?” He seemed less angry now.
“She was watching the chickens roast.”
“Watching the chickens roast?” He repeated incredulously.
“Yes,” Emily sighed, “The store sells rotisserie chickens, and Fiona seems to like watching them cook.”
“That’s very strange.”
“I know, especially given she won’t even take a bite of chicken unless it’s breaded and inside a happy meal box.” The two shared a smile at this.
“So, you’d been reunited with Fiona, what next?”
“What next?” Emily let out a shrill laugh, “You assume there was more, and of course you’re right. Now I was walking through the store shrouded in the embarrassment and fear that comes from losing a child for any amount of time and I was trying to just keep my eyes on the prize-five more items and I’d be done. That’s when Vivian knocked over the melons.”
“She knocked over the melons?”
“Yes,” Emily sighed. “We were back in the produce section by now, since, as I said, we’d been interrupted by the demand for snacks the first time. Vivian was practicing her ballet moves.”
“Vivian takes ballet?”
“No. She just read some book about a fairy ballerina earlier today and now she insists on pirouetting all over the place, even though I’m pretty sure what she’s doing isn’t actually a pirouette.”
“Ahh, I see.”
“Yes, so Vivian was doing her made-up pirouettes while I was busy picking out sweet potatoes for that blasted sweet potato dish. All of the sudden, she lost her balance and went flying into the melons, sending them tumbling off their display and all over the floor. One burst and sprayed Vivian in the face with seeds and juice. I shrieked, Vivienne started crying, so then Evan started crying too. Now don’t forget he was covered in red cranberry juice, so then some lady nearby thought he was bleeding and started hollering for someone to call 911. Next thing I knew there was a manager over by us demanding an explanation and asking if he needed to call an ambulance. It took me ten minutes of explanations and profuse apologies to get out of there. But finally, finally I could head to the check out line. I’d completed my list, but, as I said, the working people had invaded the store, so the lines were all long. It’s not like the store could, I don’t know, open extra lines or something knowing they’re going to be busier. No, it’s still the same four lanes open. Why do they even have so many lanes if they’re not going to use them?”
“I totally agree,” he nodded solemnly.
“Yes well, I hopped into what at least looked like the shortest line, but then the old woman in front of me not only had about one hundred coupons, half of which were expired, but then she paid by check too. Watching her write, so slowly, so deliberately, I wanted to scream in frustration. Then finally, finally, it was our turn. That’s when it struck me.”
“What?”
“I hadn’t gotten the sweet potatoes.”
“But I thought you’d gotten them while Vivian was pirouetting.”
“Yes, well, I’d only put a couple into a bag when she knocked over the melons and then I was so distracted I abandoned them.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes.” Emily sighed. “As you can imagine, I was pretty much at my wit’s end at this point, but I knew I couldn’t leave without the sweet potatoes. So, I herded the kids back over to the produce section and got the stupid sweet potatoes. Then I herded them back to stand in another long line, ignoring the steady stream of squabbling that was now emanating from the kids. I just had the sweet potatoes, but did any kind soul let me go in front of them? No.”
“Awful.”
“Isn’t it though? I know you’re being sarcastic, but really, it was off-putting.”
“Certainly.”
Emily ignored this second bout of sarcasm and continued, “It was our turn eventually though and I paid for my sweet potatoes then watched as the clerk bagged them in a plastic bag. I remember thinking I should ask for paper, but Evan started rubbing squished cranberries in Bree’s hair and I got distracted. The cart was full between all my shopping and the two younger kids, so I asked Vivian to carry the bag of sweet potatoes. Which she did only after I threatened to not let her have any pie tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
“Well I guess you sort of know this next part. We were traipsing through the parking lot, me picturing the chocolate bar I’d purchased in the check-out line the first time through, when the bag of sweet potatoes split, and the precious sweet potatoes started rolling across the parking lot. You can imagine my distress! Here I’d survived the shopping trip from hell, been through the check out line not once but twice, and now the most important items on my list were escaping. I can’t really explain what happened next. I know it wasn’t rational. I left the cart, yelling at the kids to stay put, and started dashing around the parking lot, scooping up the sweet potatoes. I’d gotten most of them, when I spotted one underneath a flashy red jaguar. It wasn’t that far under it, I thought, I could grab it. So I laid down and stuck my head under the car. My hand grabbed the sweet potato at the exact instance the alarm started blaring.”
“I know what happened next,” the officer interrupted, “the woman who owned the car heard the alarm and came rushing to her car. When she saw you underneath her car, she screamed and called the police. Which is why I’m here.”
Emily nodded, “Yes, exactly.” They were both silent. “Is she going to press charges?” Emily asked in a tiny voice.
“No,” the police officer said, “She heard you screaming that you just wanted your sweet potato. She said, and I quote, ‘the holidays make us all crazy, the poor dear.’”
Emily blushed. “Oh dear. So no jail time for me?” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
“Did you, uh, want jail time?”
Emily’s blush darkened. “No, I mean of course not. It’s just, well, I saw the holding cell once on Vivian’s school field trip. It was clean, quiet, there was a bed…” She trailed off.
“Are you telling me you want to go to jail so you can have a nap?”
Emily hung her head. “Maybe.”
The officer burst into laughter, then he leaned across the seat and planted a kiss on her lips.
“Jonathon!” She exclaimed when he backed away. “We’re in your squad car!”
“What are you worried both of us are going to get arrested today?”
“Well, what would happen to our kids?”
Jonathon laughed again. “They’d stay right where they are-with my mother.”
“The kids are with your mother? She knows about this?”
“Emily,” he kissed her softly again, “Don’t worry about that. She’s agreed to watch them overnight, so you don’t have to go to jail to take a nap, okay? And in the morning, I’ll even help you make the stupid sweet potatoes.”
“Really?” Emily’s face brightened.
“Really,” Jonathon kissed her on the nose. “After all, it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without the Fenton family sweet potatoes.”
Emily groaned, but laughed. “I think,” she said, “your family will find the sweet potatoes extra delicious with the added asphalt flavor.”
Jonathon grinned, “How about I go inside and get us some new sweet potatoes?”
“Okay,” Emily agreed, “Just be careful the bag doesn’t split on the way out.”
Disclaimer: This story was originally based on a prompt from the Reedsy writing community. (Prompt: The shopping bag ripped and all its contents tumbled to the ground. For you, this was the last straw.)
Comentarios