As we step out of the car, Emerson immediately starts calling out “beep! beep!” “No, Emerson, they don’t have a car cart at this store,” I say as I secretly curse Whole Foods, Hadley for not thinking of their younger clientele. Emerson continues to shout “beep!” at every person we pass, as if they will magically solve her problem. This goes on for a bit until I finally get my child to sit, albeit reluctantly, in a Plain Jane shopping cart.
We hit the produce section, and Emerson starts yelling out “apple!” I give Alex a look of “come on!” and he understands that he must hurriedly round up a week’s worth of fruits and veggies before Emerson causes a scene. I think about the game show Supermarket Sweep (remember that show?!), as I watch him bob and weave through potato stands and berry displays. Back at our cart, I don’t dare hand Emerson the bag of apples knowing she will, of course, take a bite out of every single one. As Alex buzzes by us, he hands Emerson a yellow bell pepper in an attempt to distract her, to which she retorts “apple!!” and immediately begins to destroy in protest.
As we leave the produce section, I hand Emerson a sealed tub of pumpkin seeds to shake around. Harmless, I think. But, Emerson is pissed that she cannot break the seal and begins to let out what we call her “angry motor boat” noise, as onlookers shoot us judgmental stares.
I decide to leave Emerson with Alex for a few minutes so I can try to find some medicine to treat the cough and cold that has been plaguing me for over a week (thanks to nights spent soothing a toddler who is currently sprouting FOUR teeth at once). I’m distracted while searching through bottles of alcohol-free, dye-free homeopathic remedies, because I can hear Emerson loudly whining and whimpering two aisles away. I grab the first thing I see with the word “cough” on it that is under $10.
When I catch up to the rest of my family, I hand Emerson a tub of hummus to play with. She is happy for a few minutes. Halfway down the pasta aisle, though, she tosses it onto the floor. Shards of plastic and puréed chickpeas splatter across the linoleum floor as I try to decide whether to leave the scene before I’m noticed, or alert an employee. I pick up what’s left of the tub and hand it to a girl stocking shelves in the next aisle and apologize as I hurry past her.
Emerson is done whining. Now she is screaming random words at the top of her lungs. I tell her to “hang in there” and she throws her head back, starts to cry and spits all over herself. After a couple aisles of this, and several dismayed passersby later, I decide to let Emerson loose so she can work off some of her energy.
Emerson hits the ground running and squealing with delight, as she heads straight for the registers, where she knows she will find a display of enticing travel-sized goodies….all in buckets low enough for her to grab (why people?!). She selects her usual favorites: a rock crystal deodorant spray and a shea butter lip balm. Before I can catch her, she bolts for the small toy section a few aisles away. I find her there, taking a bite out of the lip balm, which I immediately grab and hide on a shelf…because I am not purchasing another lip balm. Emerson doesn’t notice that I’ve taken her “toy” away, because she is distracted by a large elephant puppet. She begins to make a very loud “elephant noise” while simultaneously running into a man pushing a shopping cart. Unfazed, she picks up a watering can, and again makes the elephant noise. Makes sense, that long spout could be a trunk, I think.
Emerson grabs a chocolate coconut health bar, from god knows where, and takes off again. Three separate times, strangers comment on how fast she can run. As Emerson makes her way up and down the aisles, she obsessively stops every five feet to take the cap off her rock crystal deodorant, which she believes is lip balm, and wipes it all over her mouth. She then finds a beaded hippie bracelet on display and swipes it while still running. She stops in the frozen food aisle to put said bracelet on and begins showing it off to strangers—heyyyy, look at my bracelet, people—some of whom are amused by her cuteness, some of whom are clearly wondering why I would let my toddler roam so freely about the store.
I begin to herd Emerson toward the body care section so I can return her collection of trinkets. We stop by the “cut your own soap” table and Emerson points to various bars. She would like to smell them. Obvs. I put several bars under her nose as she smiles and says “mmmm!” She particularly enjoys the patchouli bar so I let her hold it….she sinks her teeth into it.
It’s time to go.
I tell Emerson to say “bye bye” to the soap and the elephant and the bracelet and the strangers. But, she will not part with the rock crystal deodorant. I try to pry it from her grip and she screams. I spot Alex at the checkout counter and ask him to toss me something from one of our bags. He lobs a Steripod toothbrush cover at me and in one swift move I replace the deodorant in Emerson’s hand with it. Phew. No tears.
We say goodbye to the lady working the register a good seven times, while the people in back of us in line look visibly impatient and annoyed.
Finally, we make our way out the door.
This is our life.
