My wife looks young. Helpful bystanders routinely step in to offer instruction to the poor, helpless, teen mother. It annoys her, which is why she was so tickled when it happened to me.
In the grocery store, we got a big cart for the boys to ride in and a little cart for our groceries. New Baby rode on top, in his car seat; the big boys shared the area below. Putting them into a cart together was setting them up for a cage match, but it was what they wanted and better than chasing them all over the store.
It’s crowded quarters in a shopping cart, so the fights came early and often. Since I couldn’t see over the car seat, the fighting noise reassured me they were in good health. I’m not sure how parents of well-behaved children have any peace of mind in such situations.
Any quiet children will have to walk.
We were minding our own quarrels. An older lady, dressed in a colored sheet from the neck down, passed us in the aisle. I felt a tug at my arm.
The lady had a hold on me, in a completely un-grocery-store-like fashion. With her non-grabby hand she pointed toward the front of my cart. “He’s trying to poke the other one in the eye with that thing,” she informed me in the gravest of tones. “You might want to check on them.”
Statements that begin, “You might want to . . .” chafe me. That little injection of faux tact doesn’t temper the judgment.
“Oh, Jesus!” I thought, and possibly muttered. My wife, who was watching from the safety of the little cart, says I rolled my eyes at the lady, although I don’t remember this.
Really? You’ve never considered that if brothers this age meant to poke each other’s eyes out, they’d have done it by now?
I stepped around to look at the boys. Buster was holding the plastic clip of the toddler strap about six inches away from Big Brother’s face. I probably rolled my eyes again and proceeded as if I’d never been accosted.
Poking him in the eye, indeed! How did she know he wasn’t going for the teeth? Or the throat? She never raised boys if she thinks they’re that predictable. In this instance, the clip at the end of the toddler strap is known as leverage. You can’t effectively negotiate in such tight quarters without leverage.
It probably wouldn’t even hurt that much.
Having diffused a volatile situation, by ignoring the helpful intervention of a stranger, I looked for my wife. She was having difficulty following, due to a laughing fit making her struggle to remain on her feet.
Finally, catching up, and catching her breath, my wife recounted the splendor of my eye rolling at the lady. “Why didn’t you tell her you appreciated her concern?” she asked through her tears.
“Because I didn’t appreciate it.”
Thrilled that I had gotten a taste of the unwed, teen mother treatment, she pleaded, “You’ve got to write about this!”
Leaving the store, we saw our helpful stranger again. That includes the boys, because, against all odds, their eyes were still in their heads. The lady had set off the exit alarm and was explaining to an employee that she’d paid for everything.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” I said to my wife.
“That’s the title of your post,” she replied.
And so it is.
The old days of peace, love, and harmony.
Snoozing on the Sofa 
With a shopping cart, you could take that caged match on the road. WSW “World Shopping-cart Wrestling.” I say this from experience… 😉
Well, somebody else will have to push the cart, because a circuit of the grocery store was enough for me. Those kids are getting heavy!
Ha! You could always hook the cart up to one of those electric Hover-round and pull them through the store 😉
Now you’re talking!
Preventing brothers from fighting cannot be done: Cain and Abel, the Marx Brothers, and Michael and Leon Spinks. It’s in their blood. I hope that old lady got arrested for shoplifting.
And to my knowledge, none of those guys ever had an eye poked out.
I bet she had some bratwurst tucked away under her sheet.
My best friend once stuck me with all three of her girls in a grocery store. I turned to look at a salsa display, and she saw her shot and took it. My therapist says I’m almost over it.
Your therapist is either really good or a liar.
I would prefer riding in a shopping cart instead of pushing it, for the people riding IN the cart, generally doesn’t have to pay for any damn thing!
One of the advantages of having them in the cart is that it prevents them from running around grabbing every kind of cookies and putting them into the cart.
Well, that would surely make my wife’s trip more enjoyable. She gets annoyed at me for also grabbing cookies and wine and cheeses.
I relate to the dudes…
Make sure you grab yourself some Lunchables. (Do they have those in SA?)
Lunchables?
Explain, my wise friend, for down here in the land of bottoms up, we do not have what you are referring to.
Prepackaged finger lunch for kids, consisting of crackers, cheese, and some oily slices of meat. Pretty disgusting in my book, but the kids love ’em.
Sounds like fun. Just add some red wine. But then almost everything is more fun if you add wine.
We have that same baby blanket. And feelings of irritation when strangers try to tell me what to do.
If only the strangers of the world had worried so much about raising their own children, we’d have a lot less crime.
It’s a nice blanket, isn’t it?
haha. yes. It’s nice and soft.
You might want to print out a copy of this post and hang it on the bulletin board of your supermarket, so this nice lady can read it too. I’m just saying, you might want to…
Great post, and you really struck a chord with observing how the words ‘You might want to’ are among the most demeaning;)
There are a few people who can pull off the “You might want to . . .” and make it sound like friendly advice. For others, it only ever means: “You are not performing up to my interpretation of societal standards, and I’m calling you out on it.” This lady was definitely in the latter category.
They might want to put your definition of the phrase ‘You might want to’ in the Oxford Dictionary!