Down goes the sweet baby rays

My worst nightmare came true. My son had a major - MAJOR - meltdown in the grocery store the other day.

My husband and I have an agreement that I only take one child to the grocery store. It's not so much an agreement as it is a fact that if he wants any type of food in the house, I'm only carting one kid along. It's usually Alex. He thinks of the grocery store as an adventure - plus I can still strap him in to the cart! That's a win / win right there. He's usually good at the store. He talks with people and is generally upeat but for some reason on this trip he was some type of demon child.

(*Many mom's dream of this happening at the store.)

It started at the deli counter when he was not offered a piece of cheese. They are usually kind enough to offer a piece to the kids if you are buying some, which we were. Unfortunately today's attendent did not get the memo and I paid the price.

That rant continued until we were in the meat section. Still angered by his lack of cheese he knocked down, from the cart, the entire display of Sweet Baby Rays BBQ sauce. As I saw the box start to fall I said a silent prayer that they were in plastic and not glass bottles. Thankfully at this moment someone up there was liking me. I looked at him in shock. He quickly realized that was not a good choice as I tried to reassemble the display. Other shoppers looked at me with a mixture of "Control your kid" and "Been there sister."

I realized this trip was going to have to move a little bit quicker. I abandoned my list and went to grab milk and hot dogs which we desperately needed. The distance between the meat section and the dairy section seems longer when a toddler is screaming in your face. I went into some type of zen place where I said nothing to him while he screamed and got what I needed so we could get out of there.

This is when it got really ugly. Somewhere between dairy and the cashier we lost the little ticket the deli gives you with a number on it. The entire time we waited in line there was nothing but screaming about the number "42" and how bad he needed it. I tuned him out and told him it would be ok because my greatest challenge was still ahead. Emptying the cart while keeping Alex from attacking the candy display. Let's just say I was forced to purchase a few damaged Peppermint Patties that day.

Finally paid up we walked out to the car - still screaming about the number 42. As I put him in his car seat he did his well known toddler move of the back arch. This prohibts any type of belting to happen. Eventually I talked him down and we drove home with him still screaming.

I can't help but think a week later that I should have just asked for the piece of cheese.

Have you ever been a victim of the toddler grocery meltdown?

- Vanessa

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