I went to babysit the Fischers, Roger, 2 YO and Lydia will be 4 on June 9th. It was 47° and raining but Roger has a simple method of persuasion. “Car...car...car...Peppa... car... car...car...car...Peppa... car car...car...car...Peppa... car...”
“Wanna go shopping?” I asked, to shut him up or add a few more words to his repertoire.
“Yeah,” he said, jutting his hands in the air like he’d won the... he beat me. But one of the absolute coolest things about being a grandparent, (and ask anybody who is), you can give into that crap and spoil the hell out of them. “Shopping... Car...car...car...Peppa... car... shopping.”
“Wanna eat something first?”
“No!”
“Lydia, let’s go shopping,” I said, hiding my sardonic, pleasurable expression in letting him have his way, without feeling a bit guilty about it, but Lydia’s had a lot more practice.
“Lydia, come on, let’s go.”
“But I’m watching Blippi,” she said, without even taking her eyes off the TV.
“ Car...car...car...Peppa... car,” Roger chimed in.
At Target they don’t have the fabulous two-passenger carts so Roger fidgets in the seat, grabbing everything he can reach, and Lydia walks in front of the cart. Not 4’ in front, right in front. And when we get to another aisle, she tries to anticipate what aisle I’m heading to next. She has such an eidetic mind, she probably was being modest by not taking me directly from the pickle relish to the tiny Cokes.
Target went off without a hitch. Then to my favorite store, Five Below. I swear I’m batting 1.000 when I ask Minnesotans if they’ve been there.
“What is it?”
“Everything in there is $5 or less. Except for some electronics, those are up to $8 or so.”
When they can get a word in edgewise, they say they thought it was a winter clothing store. Well duh.
It went well, in fact pretty fun.I don’t treat stores like libraries so I let them run free. Then I’ll holler, “ROGER!” and then I bark, “Heel!”
Lydia is trying real hard to pick something, ($5 or below cuz she’s too young for electronics), because she went out of there with some toy the cashier laid on her about it being a collectible, like Beanie Babies. Jerk. I got what I wanted, some pee pads for my cat, and kept telling her, “It’s okay, Lyds. You didn’t get a good toy last time either..”
I’m not whispering this, she’s two aisles over. I avoided the electronics aisle because my Costco credit card is already up to $2,100 and that’s all I’m taking home.
Oops.
It’s vacation, so f*it.
I’m almost out the door of Five Below with Roger, but Lydia is back at the far register, gawking at some impulse purchase, exactly where she bought that non-collectible last week. “Come on, Lyds,” I say loudly, because she ain’t budging. “Come on, we’ll get something at Dollar Tree.”
And she started throwing a tantrum; full on tears. And Roger takes off to the right as I get stern with Lydia to my left. I see another grandma in line, (I could tell cuz she knew I was secretly having more fun than imaginable), and I say to her, and a few other stragglers, (it’s the Dollar Tree, they’re all stragglers), “It’s like herding cats, ain’t it?”And I’m in my leather cowboy hat, hair almost down to my shoulders, and going on 3 hours sleep. My bet is they were relieved a guy like me wasn’t an asshole cuz a lot of guys who look like me are.
So anyway, we get into the Dollar Tree (Everything in there is a dollar or less. Unlike Dollar General or Family Dollar. Maybe that’s what they should change Five Below’s name to, Five Dollar General.
Lydia starts to cry again, wanting to go back to Five Below. Full-on tears, and I’ve got the one liner cocked and loaded. But Roger didn’t want to be in there either. They wanted to go back to Five Below, but I wanted to buy one more set of Bluetooth headphones, but I didn’t have the money. So I told her to stop, or we were leaving, and she didn’t stop so we left, got in the car and drove back to the Fischer’s. I have no experience disciplining a boy this age, but a 4 YO? Been there, done that. In 8th grade, Steph’s idea of a good time was to have me take them shopping. At Target. We’d holler across the store, “Steph, why kind of Kotex do you want? Is that by the toilet paper.”
It my little Steph I’ve won the award, and that game was retired. She got on her belly right in front of the cashiers line and slammed her fists and kicked her feet and threw a faux full-on tantrum.
BRAVO STEPH