I have a lot of Costco stories like the time a crazy guy followed me through the isles cursing me for causing the degradation of the planet through overpopulation, or when little Gavin disapproved of a sample so strongly he spit it out in the cart next to him (good thing I had baby wipes).
This month, Ricky got to experience some of the joy of shopping with little children.
Makayla had an appointment at Costco in the optical department. Unfortunately, this appointment also fell during Rodeo Break, which meant nobody else was in school and we had already spent two days doing chores and not going anywhere, so the kids were desperate to get out. Taking six kids to any appointment is hard, but in some places, the tiny, chairless rooms make it torture. Everything is big at Costco, except for the optical department. So I put Brooklyn and Gavin in a shopping cart and told Ricky and Andrew to walk around the store for a while. Sean stayed with me and Makayla and sat on my lap (he's ten years old, so my legs were asleep in two minutes).
When we were nearly finished with Makayla's appointment, I got a text from Ricky: "Are you almost done? People think I'm a teen dad."
I don't know about your Costco, but ours is full of old people. When we first moved here, I thought it was just a typical winter phenomenon in Tucson, but it's packed with old people in the summer too. My brother says they shop at Costco not because they need eight gallons of milk (like my family), but because it's where they get their prescriptions and vitamins. He's probably right. Anyway, I don't have anything against old people. I like them. It's just that sometimes they say hurtful things or ask questions about things that are none of their business. Young people do that too, though, but I have had more old people tell me my baby should be wearing socks, or I have too many kids--things like that.
So, when we finally caught up to Ricky and Andrew pushing Brooklyn and Gavin around in the cart, I cracked up when he said that a lady said to him, "My, you have your hands full."
If I had a dollar for every time somebody said that to me, I'd probably have new couches in my living room.
But Ricky isn't even sixteen yet! And he only had two kids in his cart with a twelve-year-old walking beside him. He must have looked overwhelmed.
Makayla had an appointment at Costco in the optical department. Unfortunately, this appointment also fell during Rodeo Break, which meant nobody else was in school and we had already spent two days doing chores and not going anywhere, so the kids were desperate to get out. Taking six kids to any appointment is hard, but in some places, the tiny, chairless rooms make it torture. Everything is big at Costco, except for the optical department. So I put Brooklyn and Gavin in a shopping cart and told Ricky and Andrew to walk around the store for a while. Sean stayed with me and Makayla and sat on my lap (he's ten years old, so my legs were asleep in two minutes).
When we were nearly finished with Makayla's appointment, I got a text from Ricky: "Are you almost done? People think I'm a teen dad."
I don't know about your Costco, but ours is full of old people. When we first moved here, I thought it was just a typical winter phenomenon in Tucson, but it's packed with old people in the summer too. My brother says they shop at Costco not because they need eight gallons of milk (like my family), but because it's where they get their prescriptions and vitamins. He's probably right. Anyway, I don't have anything against old people. I like them. It's just that sometimes they say hurtful things or ask questions about things that are none of their business. Young people do that too, though, but I have had more old people tell me my baby should be wearing socks, or I have too many kids--things like that.
So, when we finally caught up to Ricky and Andrew pushing Brooklyn and Gavin around in the cart, I cracked up when he said that a lady said to him, "My, you have your hands full."
If I had a dollar for every time somebody said that to me, I'd probably have new couches in my living room.
But Ricky isn't even sixteen yet! And he only had two kids in his cart with a twelve-year-old walking beside him. He must have looked overwhelmed.
I took over driving the cart, so he wouldn't be mistaken for a teen dad anymore. As we roamed the isles, grabbing our usual Costco purchases--bananas, 800 gallons of milk, blocks of cheese, tortillas, something quick for dinner, I felt bad for sending Ricky out with the kids. The store was packed! I’m used to going during the day when it’s only a few old people and other harried-looking moms like me. Our gaggle of kids seemed to take up more than our allotted amount of space. I was strategizing the quickest way to weave through the crowd to check out when a cute old lady shouted from the other side of the aisle, “You have a beautiful family! So wonderful to see!”
Aw, thanks, nice lady. Those are the kind of opinions I like to hear.
And then we turned the corner and I snapped at Andrew, “No, I’m not buying pizza,” and to Brooklyn, “Stop throwing cracker samples at your brother!”
And then we paid for our loot and I walked over to the food thingy and bought two giant Costco pizzas. Because shopping at Costco with kids is exhausting.
Comments