Lost And Found

      So I pose the question: where do our husbands go when they are taking all the time of ETERNITY when we send them into the store? When we are only to be left with screaming children, a stuffy car (because you're a dead woman if you open your window for a few precious breaths of air and the whole parking lot hears the wailing and gnashing of teeth coming from your automobile), and no way to let your kids run free. That's the worst part--that they act like you've tied them up, awaiting some torture because you really want to hear them screaming, yelling, and writhing like zapped worms. And WHY the car?--when all four sides of your rectangular vehicle are the smallest area you just might be in and that's precisely where they decide to lose it. And it never fails--you forgot the pacifier; you forgot to pack extra milk; the snacks you did pack have lost favor with the kids all within a 5 minute time frame of when they began screaming (because the screaming doesn't necessarily start right away, oh no--it seems to start right when you are getting comfortable in the car and listening to a good song thinking, 'Maybe this is like a little brea--'). And should you gain the courage and get out of the vehicle to let just one kid out, there's always that person walking by in all their youth and glamor and it's like being in dorm life and you're that loser that has to get to bed, wandering to the neighbors door asking if they'll turn it down and getting smacked with sound waves so powerful upon the door opening that you either peed your pants from the scare, or you just sauntered away as they looked at you like the nerd you were. (Oh...maybe this was just me...) And you never know if you should like, apologize for your kids screaming or pretend to be confident and smile as though this is just one of the many perks of having toddlers cooking in a car while your husband is doing--WHAT--smelling flowers? Manufacturing a new product, sure to please the whole family?! It was precisely this train of thought that got me through.

Last time I was in this little Purgatory Zone, I tried several techniques, "I won't let my peace be disturbed!" I said with my She-Ra sword. "Heeeheeeheee!" sneered a Skeletor voice of Evil (or maybe I've finally cracked for good, and those were the early onset voices finally coming through...but either way, they sounded just like Skeletor) "Peace SCHMESE!" he heckled. First technique: Meditation. Hafta tell ya--unless you are the reincarnation of Ghandi or Christ Himself, this DOESN'T work with three screaming toddlers. I tried meditating on the image of the ocean I saw on my vacation...and all that kept coming through were images of the kids finding me on little toddler jet-skis. That was a no-go. Next, I tried a positive reframe--I tried telling myself that "Welp, even though this SUCKS, at least I'm not with the kids in the store..." Then, I decided that I don't even like the phrase positive reframe and that it makes me angry, very angry, inside. So my last ditch effort was to imagine worse scenarios than mine at the time: having my legs chopped off at the ankles and being forced to run through a sticker patch...living with my mom...bending over in a store to smell a flower only to have a part of it get stuck in my nose resulting in hospitalization etc. That's when it hit! I begin to imagine what could be waylaying Handsome Husband and that saved me because I began laughing out loud.
 In fact, I was laughing so loudly that I even opened the windows, unashamed and unafraid of people seeing, "Honda CRV: The One-Car Freak Show."  Here are just a few of my ideas but you know--be creative and think of your own and hell, write them down on a Steno pad for every time you are in this situation. The best part of this technique was that I got my nearly four-year-old in on the scenarios and he thought they were hilarious. (You might not think they are hilarious but cut me some slack--remember what state of mind I was in at this point.)

Possibility #1: In a desperate attempt to pick the perfect can of cream of chicken for me, Handsome Husband digs deeply through the display and picks it out, holding it up high in all it's Campbell's glory when suddenly, the display crashes down, burying him beneath boulder-like cans. He must use his stealth skills to come out alive.

Possibility #2: Unbeknownst to innocent Safeway shoppers, there in the very bakery of the store, lurks a witch. Seeing my Handsome Husband she thinks to herself whilst stroking her wart, "Ahhh, here is a very fair child--he looks a little lean but he'd be puhfect for my pie!" So offering him homemade brownies (his absolute favorite), the swarthy bakery wench lures him into the back. He is enjoying delicious bite upon bite of chocolatey brownie goodness when suddenly from behind, he hears an opening 'SCCREEECH!' he dives out of the way, foiling Witch Warts plan of pushing him into the oven. Unfortunately though for our hero, he has fallen into the pie concoction. Will Juan the Mopster hear Husband's desperate cries to toss him the handle of the mop or will he go on, mopping, listening to his Shakira remix?

Possibility #3: (This one is Child #1's favorite because he's into inappropriate body parts being a part of ANY story, and especially if they get lost or "broken." Don't look at me--I don't even have those body parts.) Whilst humming a happy tune and finding Mommy her favorite Lean Cuisine in the frozen section--the very last one--a giant oversized gentleman trying to shed a few pounds gasps in astonishment. "YOU don't need that Lean Cuisine! You're already skinny! Give it meeee!" In anger, he runs into Daddy, trying to smash him in the door. The good news is, Daddy isn't smushed but the really bad news is, his tush seems to have been snipped off by the big freezer door! It rolls sadly into the freezer. The Giant Man grabs the Lean Cuisine because Daddy is stunned, and takes Daddy's tush out of the freezer and puts it in a grocery bag and throws it across the store, miniscus-style, as hard as he can. "NOOO!!! My perfect TUUUSHH!!!" Daddy yells in despair. "Bob, we're gonna need assistance in aisle 12...and clean up in aisle 1.." interrupts a voice on the store intercom, "...there seems to be a...butt...that's nearly stuck in the meat shredder...Bob..." Running as fast as he can to the Deli, Daddy yells, "That's MY BUTT! Don't shred it!!" When he gets there it has not been shredded but packaged and--oh no!--someone is buying it! Well this is awkward. Pooor Daddy. "Please--I know this is odd but, that's my butt and uh...well, you can't buy it. It's mine so...it uh...won't fit you." What will happen? Will Daddy have to buy it back? Or will the bidder have mercy on his not-there-derriere?

Well, you get the idea. Hope this brought you a laugh. It made the kids laugh, the people stare, and it made my day. God bless!