Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Hate is a strong word...

I don't know about your kids, but my kids are constantly using the word "hate".  "I hate him", "I hate her", "I hate pizza" (I know, right?), "I hate cheese", etc, etc, etc.  I am constantly correcting them by saying, "Hate is a strong word!" and it is...there are few things, people, etc that I could use that word to describe....I hate hypocrisy, racism, prejudice,,,it fits for those ideas but I think that most people feel the same.  

Today, I took Delilah to the commissary with me.  I knew it wouldn't be a quick trip, but I was in a good mood, she seemed to be in a good mood, and things were looking up, so I took her along.  When she hopped into the car after preschool pickup and I told her we were going, she immediately asked the dreaded question,  "Can we get the car shopping cart?  Please.  Please!!!!"  And like I said, I was in a good mood, so I gave in.  Sure, I thought, how bad can it be....

It was worse, worse than driving a Suburban through the narrow streets of Italy for these past two years, practically worse than childbirth.  Not quite as bad as going to the dentist, which I need to do, BUT CLOSE!! Almost as bad as the dentist.  



I tried to talk her into the new carts our commissary has--you know the kind that has two baskets stacked on top of each other and the car part, complete with steering wheel and horn, is actually in the seat-part of the cart.  Those are much easier to drive.  But no, not Ms. Delilah, NO.  She insisted on the double wide version of the car/shopping cart.  Driving that thing through the aisles is impossible.  And clearly invented by a man.  The constant need to back up and pull forward, back up and pull forward just to make it down the straight grocery aisle after turning is too much!!  TOO MUCH!

Our 20 minutes-tops shopping trip in a good mood quickly turned into an hour of me screaming and cursing that damn cart, while Delilah swung from the hood of it like a tiny Chinese gymnast.  So if you happened to see me at the commissary today, I was not possessed.  It's the cart's fault. I hate it. 

There's a reason these photos are blurry...and it has nothing to do with the camera.

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