Cinnamon Roll Trees

Yesterday was "Going To Town Day."  A lovely day, if there ever was one.  And, yes, we did make a trip to get the glasses repaired, for what is this blog without broken glasses?  After a long day filled with homeschool co-op, piano lessons, and numerous errands, I was eager to start the long drive home.

Right before I left town, Handsome Dude conveniently informed that he had to go potty WEE BAD.  I really, really, REALLY did not want to stop.

There comes a point in every mother's day where she just cannot handle the thought of loading children into car seats any longer.  But, I digress.

I tried to map out places on the highway in my head that I could stop and have him pee on the side of the road if need be.  But then I was horrified at the sort of hillbilly I had become who would even entertain such a thought.

Plus, it was raining, and I'd prefer to not get my hair wet.

I decided to go to the grocery store.  Because we always need milk anyways.  Handsome Dude took care of business and off we went to grab the milk.  I, being the brilliant gal that I am, decided to get TWO gallons of milk, so I would not have to send my husband to the store again the next day, as I am wont to do.

We drink a lot of milk.

Handsome Dude thinks he is a man these days.  He informed me that he is nearly ready to cut down tress and bring in firewood.  I do not believe him because the boy cannot even get toothpaste on his toothbrush correctly.  But I let him have his moment.  He is quite the little gentleman and offered to hold the milk for me.  I thanked him for his kindness and handed one of the gallons over.

HD:  No, mom.  I hold BOFE of them.

Me:  No, it is too heavy.

HD:  Mom!  MOM!  MOOOOM!  I am almost 5!  I am stronger, right?

Me:  Just one.

So, we were waiting "patiently" in line, I with one gallon, HD with the other.  Daisy Mae was being uEber annoying by giving Little Dude a piggy back ride and insisting they talk in creepy-bunny voices.

There was an older lady in front of us.  She looked at the commotion behind her and just smiled.  Bless her heart.

Then Handsome Dude dropped his milk.

Did you know that plastic can break?  Neither did I.

So.  Milk is splashing everywhere.  Handsome Dude looks horrified.  I am angry, but trying not to blow because it was just an accident.  But seriously.  AHHHHHHHHH.

The older lady in front of me was nice as can be.  Amazingly, enough.

Older Lady to Handsome Dude:  Well, sir, that was just an accident, wasn't it?

Me:  I'm sorry, I hope we didn't get milk on you!

Older Lady:  I am just fine.

And she turns and there is milk all over her jeans.

Me:  Oh, I'm sorry.  It does look like there is milk on your pants.

She looks at her pants and smiles at me.

Older Lady:  You know what?  I bet my washing machine will fix that right up!  It's not a problem!

And that's exactly how I needed her to respond.  Because somedays, it is just hard to be a mom.  Somedays, I feel like a failure.  Somedays, I feel like I just cannot do it.

Because . . . have you read my blog?

But she did not scold me, lecture me, criticize me, or become annoyed with me.  She treated me with grace and kindness.

She's also my new favorite grocery store stranger ever because not once did she say any of the following phrases:

"Boy, you've got your hands full!"

"Are those kids all yours?!?"

"Why aren't they in school?"

"Does the little on there have the same dad?"

So, thank you, grocery store stranger, for being kind to us.

And not questioning my son's paternity.

Like the stranger last week did.

***

And while we are on the topic of feeling like a failure as a mom . . .

Little Dude.

Oh, boy.  He is testing the limits lately.

Last night, we put him to bed.  About an hour later, we hear the piano keys pounding.

Which was shocking and all because our kids are so obedient.

David sneaks downstairs to startle him.  Because that's the kind of parents we are.

David:  What are you doing?

Little Dude (shocked):  What, dad?  What?

David:  It's BEDTIME!

Little Dude:  But, Dad!  I need to do my piano lessons!

?

What is up with this kid? Such a punk.  He's lucky he's cute, too.

Me:  We are going to plant a garden this year.  What should we plant?  Potatoes?  Carrots?  Corn?

Little Dude:  Yum!  Yes and berries and cinnamon rolls!

I would totes love a cinnamon roll tree in my garden.

Later, dudes.