I think my Bloggeritis has been cured, or at least treated for the time being. Two days of no blogging and a hefty dose of retail therapy (in the form of a gloriously child-free trip to Sephora) not only took me away from the computer but provided me with a bag full of goodies to review on Chic Critique over the next several weeks.
Then there was the comic relief at the expense of my daughter’s dignity and comfort when we were shopping at TJ Maxx. I had treated my daughters to Micky D’s after picking them up from school, and they each had some chocolate milk left when we arrived at the shopping center, so I allowed them to bring their drinks along. That was my first mistake.
We were wandering the aisles of TJ’s, and I admittedly wasn’t paying very close attention to my girls. They were right beside me and being fairly quiet, so my mommy radar wasn’t going off. Clearly my mommy radar needs an upgrade.
I am still not entirely sure what C was doing. Unfortunately she has inherited my lack of balance and coordination, and suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw her as she lost her balance, spun around, and then plopped unceremoniously on a low display shelf. I swung my head to look at her and saw in her face a look of shock and surprise and pain and embarrassment right as what was left of her chocolate milk shot up from the carton like a geyser and spewed all over the floor and the top of her head. This all happened in the matter of about a millisecond.
C immediately started to wail. A store worker looked over at us like she wished she had never gotten out of bed that morning. I surveyed the situation — brown liquid splattered across the floor and covering my daughter’s hair and running down her cheeks — and a bubble of laughter welled up inside of me. I managed to squelch the giggles, but I couldn’t control the smirk on my face. The salesgirl’s eyes met mine and she started to smirk too.C was not amused in the least. I tried to convince her that sometimes it’s best just to laugh at one’s mishaps, but she wasn’t buying it.
The salesgirl went for paper towels as I tried to console my distraught daughter. We managed to complete our shopping trip, and as soon as we got home we had a thorough hair-washing session.
I guess there’s a good reason stores have those No Food Or Drink rules.