Shopping. Love it? Hate it? Either way, it’s a monotonously regular chore.
Combine shopping for essentials with pre – Christmas crowds, and you feel like you need to put on your battle gear before you step outside. Add kids to the mix, and very often, you get an experience to be remembered. For all the wrong reasons. Hot weather, no parking, traffic jams, shopping trolleys queued up by the dozen…Oooh, Christmas is such fun.
Shopping trips take on a life of their own with kids in tow. Take last week, for instance. TD & Rosie were excited to be going shopping with me. They couldn’t wait to see their favourite people in each shop. They have befriended every checkout lady, shelf packer, shop assistant, and manager that we have ever come across, and happily regale each person with tales of their latest adventures.
SHOPPING TROLLEYS & LOUD SINGING
This day, the kids raced up the ramp into the IGA supermarket, and I fully expected them to want shopping trolleys of their own to push around. But no. It would appear that they wanted to relive their babyhood…but not by sitting in the child seat. Oh no. They both had to climb IN the trolley, and believe me, they were no featherweight! Squabbles ensued over the limited amount of available real estate, until I finally got tired of it and banished them. Besides, it came down to a choice: the kids or the food. The food won. Kids out. Who has ever seen a seven year old trying to fit in a trolley anyway?!
But they are resourceful creatures. If they weren’t allowed IN the trolley, then they were going to get ON the trolley. They climbed on the sides, elbows and bottoms sticking out. The trolley became difficult to steer with all that weight on it, and we left a trail of destruction as we sideswiped aisle displays and blundered into shelf corners. I felt like I was trying to pilot the Queen Mary through the canals of Venice.
Our progress through a supermarket is never a silent affair. In between loud renditions of their favourite song, “Lighthouse,” hilarious giggling over silly noises, and races to the end of the aisle and back (banned if another shopper is in the same aisle!), silence is a scarce commodity. The staff always know where we are!
CHILDHOOD RITUAL
Why do I allow it? Because…although sometimes it feels like maneuvering a circus through a tunnel, to them it is a grand adventure. Although I do my best to curtail activities that would inconvenience others, I allow them the joy, the excitement, of the experience because one day, in the big, serious world of adulthood, it just won’t be the same.
Who can remember riding on the side of a trolley while Mum shopped? I can. It was one of those rites of childhood. My poor Mum was probably harried and harassed, and shopping with children was just hard work, but she allowed it. That childhood ritual no doubt came to an end the day she said “Get off! You’re too heavy!” And then it was over forever. But it lasted long enough to make a memory. And because I have those memories, I’m allowing my children to make similar memories.
BIG BOXES
Later that day, we had to go to the Woolworths supermarket. I got a trolley, and this time Rosie was tired. After a brief argument about sitting in the trolley, I won. She sat in the child seat. But TD wanted his own trolley. And this shop was full of people. And he has a habit of steering his trolley side by side with mine. So this time we didn’t destroy anything, but I did have to make numerous apologies as I tried to shepherd two trolleys around the shop. Still, we didn’t mow down any old ladies, and most of the time I was able to keep the whole cavalcade from stalling in the middle of the aisles.
TD is an industrious young fellow, and he took it upon himself to collect all the empty cardboard cartons and boxes from the shelves, “because he didn’t want the Woolworths workers to have to do all the work.” He managed to fill his trolley up with empty boxes before proudly presenting it to the bemused girl at the checkout. Then, with her permission, he dug through the trolley and claimed the biggest box as his prize. It had the front cut out of it, so he put it over his head, and happily marched through the shopping centre advertising Sorbent toilet paper.
I had to buy a birthday card for my sister, so I stopped at a little gift shop. I parked the trolley next to a rotating card stand out the front of the shop, and started to look. TD promptly put his box down in the middle of the doorway and sat in it. He was stopping all revenue flow into the shop (no one could get in!), so I made him move next to the card stand, out of the way. He put the box down and sat in it again, and all was peaceful, so I returned to browsing the cards.
Rosie was still in the trolley seat. She decided that she wanted to look at the cards too – much faster than I did. She turned the stand around so quickly that I couldn’t peruse the cards, and then she pulled one out, and couldn’t find where it belonged. I spent several minutes trying to find its home.
Meanwhile, TD was bored. He discovered the rotating card stand, and before I knew it, the stand was whizzing round at a dizzying speed, cards starting to fly out of it. I managed to grab it and avert disaster in the nick of time. And began to feel exasperated.
FINALLY! I had my card. TD stood up and picked up the box to take it inside the shop with us.
“Oh no,” I said. “Big boxes and small china shops don’t mix.” He gave me a worried look.
“But if I leave it outside, someone will steal it!” he protested. We reached a compromise: he could leave it on the floor just inside the door. I carefully nosed the trolley into the tiny shop, and TD parked himself at the door, standing to attention like a soldier, guarding his box from thieves, small children and the cleaning man.
That ordeal over, we made our way to the car, where the box was deposited on the rear seat between the two kids. A squabble broke out immediately. TD didn’t want Rosie to touch the box. Rosie didn’t have a choice. It took up all of the space on her side of the car. Before we even got out of the carpark, the box was in jail, and rode home on the front passenger seat in style.
JUST ANOTHER SHOPPING TRIP?
Just another shopping trip? Maybe. Or maybe it was more than that. Every time we go shopping, the kids are learning more about the world around them. How to safely guide a shopping trolley through the supermarket. They learn about what food to buy and how much it costs. Although she’s not yet at school, Rosie can read a price tag. She can tell me how much an item costs. TD learned that being industrious brings rewards. He wanted a box: he earned one by working for it. They’ve both learned how to interact with a variety of people just going about everyday tasks.
Sometimes I’ve been tempted to resent the difficulties of shopping with children – let’s face it, sometimes I arrive home tired and grumpy because they’ve worn me out! But I try to remind myself that I’m investing in them. I’m teaching them skills for the future. And one day that investment will pay off. It will be another step in their journey to being happy, confident, well adjusted young adults.
One day, TD will be able to go to the supermarket with a shopping list, and he’ll know exactly what to do. He’ll probably even enjoy doing it – and he’ll be competent at steering shopping trolleys around the shop! One day, Rosie will be able to plan a weekly menu. She’ll be able to make a list, and a budget, and plan her meals accordingly. They will learn how to buy food that is nutritious and good value for money. And they will be well on their way to competent life management as adults.
So, when I stand back and look at the big picture, I consider it a privilege to be able to teach my two little people skills for their future. And one day, big boxes will be a distant memory, but every time I see one, I will smile and remember the days when a big box was a treasure worth defending.