The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Shopping Trip

Every Super Bowl Sunday, my mom drives out to me and we spend the day together because there is never any traffic.  This year we decided we would go to the outlets.  I needed new bras after almost 2 years of nursing and I have to buy Charlotte an entire summer wardrobe, so I was ready for a day of shopping.

And then Charlotte woke up at 1 AM on Sunday and stayed up until 6 AM, so I should have known shit was going to hit the fan before we even walked out the door.

She fell asleep on our way to the outlets, and then we tried to put her in the stroller still asleep, which OF COURSE she didn’t.  I tried to keep her in the stroller while my mom went into Starbucks and got us coffee, but she was screaming like she was on fire and banging her head against the bars like an actual animal so of course I had to take her out.  So I held her while my mom pushed the empty stroller and we tried to go into a store.  We opened the door and she started screaming like she was possessed by a demon.  And then she didn’t stop screaming until I took her out of the store.  She wouldn’t walk, she wouldn’t let my mom hold her, she wouldn’t drink or eat or do anything nice and she DEFINITELY wasn’t getting back in the damn stroller.  We tried another store and the same shit happened, so my mom and I decided we had to leave because 1) my arms were starting to fall off and 2) nosy motherf*ckers kept staring at us like they never saw a screaming kid before.  The second I told Charlotte we were leaving her mood changed dramatically and she was happily waving goodbye to the security guards.  I was not pleased.

We ended up driving somewhere else to go eat and by the grace of God the child was happy enough by then to let us enjoy a meal and a much needed drink.  But no nap was had, no meals consumed, no shopping done.  Yesterday was one of those days where I was exhausted from the second my eyes opened until the minute I closed them.

It just goes to show you that sometimes kids are going to become possessed by the devil and you’re going to have to continue wearing ratty bras that don’t fit your deflated boobs and there’s really nothing you can do about it.

Except drink.