This afternoon, I marched two crying out of Target.
I had finally made it out of the house in the late afternoon pre-rush hour traffic all the way to "The Escalator Target"--the new Target that is located on the fourth floor in a shopping complex. My daughter needs new underwear, and I needed pickling salt and alum to finish making my pickles. Did you catch it? My daughter still needs new underwear.
That's because after we had picked out the (more expensive) Hello Kitty underwear and started our search for pickling salt and alum, the "Can I have"s began. My two oldest know the shopping rule: We purchase only the things on our list. And so, after discovering a complete lack of pickling salt and alum and about 15 "Can we get"s in 10 minutes, we put back the underwear and started to leave the store.
Putting back the underwear crushed my daughter and brought on the frustrated tears. And my oldest son, who has been annoyed by his sister all day today, tried to remedy the situation by punching her in the chest.
I could feel the stares of other women as we walked down the steps (no escalator as a consequence), marched through the doors, had to stop in the parking ramp as my daughter threw herself to the ground and my son yanked his hand out of mine, and finally made it to the van. The employee corralling carts stared quite openly as I put my children's hands on the back of the van as I buckled their brother into his car seat. As I was buckling my daughter into her car seat, we heard the distinct wail of sirens.
"Do you hear that?" I asked.
"Yes," said my son. "Why are they coming?"
And then I became THAT Mom.
"Do you think they're coming because of you?" I asked.
His eyes shot wide open as he quickly buckled his seat belt. My daughter, who was only red in the face, started crying hysterically yet again.
"We're sorry, Mama!" they both pleaded. "Don't let the police come!"
In my mind, I knew what a mean thing I had done to my children. But I felt justified. They had been so naughty. I was so embarrassed to have to take my screaming kids out of Target. I was frustrated at the fruitless journey.
And that was when I realized how much I needed forgiveness. So, as I buckled my seat belt, we all bowed our heads and prayed, asking God to forgive us for our poor behavior. Fortunately, as we drove past the police cars and fire trucks stopped at the car accident, my son said, "Don't worry Mom. They had to go to a real emergency."
Later on this afternoon, we survived a trip to Giant. I was successful in finding the alum; hopefully Kosher salt will be an acceptable substitute for pickling salt (apparently not that many people make their own pickles out here). As I was making dinner, listening to my two oldest playing, I realized what a blessing it is that the police DON'T come and take them away. Sometimes, I'm sure I deserve to have that happen.
