Freaky Friday

Last week, I had an afternoon that will go down in my personal history as a memorable mommy moment. Or at least a good example of when you have to laugh at your situation or else you just might start to cry.

It was Friday afternoon. It had been a long week. I was tired, harried and trying desperately to get everybody situated so I could enjoy a date night with my wonderful husband that was to begin at 6:30 p.m.

By 5 p.m., I had been to the post office, the bank, the pediatrician’s office for an inexplicably itching ear, the movie store in order to ensure evening entertainment for my children, and the Hallmark store for a birthday card. And now I was heading into the grocery store. At 5 p.m. On a Friday. With two kids in tow. Was I nuts?

We all headed straight to the bathroom before beginning our shopping. I quickly pushed the car/cart around the store, grabbing the few items I needed and headed for the front to check out. In my mind, I was keeping track of the time I would have to get myself ready before heading out, realizing that each decision I made could further erode my prep time.

As I came upon the front of the store, I stopped dead. Long lines everywhere. There wasn’t a good option. So I decided we’d have to wait it out. OBB went to the reading bench and looked at books. Baby Girl opted to sit in the car/cart and pretended to drive it. And I flipped through People magazine, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the clock at the front of the store.

As soon as it was my turn at the register, my hope was renewed that I might actually make it out of here and home with a decent amount of time to get myself together. Perhaps even a shower? I might be asking too much.

And that's when everything really started to fall apart. The girl behind the register asked for my value card. I handed it to her, just as OBB told me he had to go to the bathroom again. Stuck at the register, there was no way I could go with him, so I told him to go, given that the bathroom door was within eyeshot of where I was standing.

As I turned back to watch the girl ring up my groceries, she looked up at me with a face filled with horror. She had managed to drop my card in one of the tiny slots in the conveyer belt and it was gone. I told her it was ok. I explained that I had one just like it on my key chain and that I could use that in the future. But she persisted. Soon, I had three store employees in front of me, dismantling the register. Big pieces of machinery were being lifted out of the cavernous check-out counter. I didn’t even realize these things could come apart like that. Brave store workers were reaching their hands down into cold, steely unknown places to grasp for my card. I pleaded with them to just let it go, noticing the irritated looks I was getting from people behind me in line.

About that time, the bathroom door opened. I looked up and my mouth gaped open. There stood OBB, pants down around his ankles, yelling across the store, “MOM! I need you to wipe my BUM!”

I decided to leave the army of register mechanics and run to the bathroom. I got him put back together and returned to see that they had, in fact, rescued my value card. Unfortunately, they also managed to disconnect the power source for the register, which started beeping maniacally as soon as my transaction was complete. As I walked away with my groceries and well-pottied children in tow, I caught the exasperated stares of the poor people trapped in line at the register, which was now officially going berserk.

I felt bad but decided I couldn’t worry about it. I was way behind now and the promise of date night still lingered.

And besides, don’t you think when you start seeing store employees pull the register apart, it’s a good idea to switch lines?