Grandkids And Groceries

During the summer my two youngest grandchildren stayed with me at Sanctuary. In need of groceries, I carefully buckle them in their boosters in the back seat of the Prius and head to Save Mart. Everything went splendidly. My list was long, but we carefully worked our way through the store, both of them pushing and me steering our cart from the front. We found what we needed. We didn’t ram into anyone else. We didn’t have melt down because they couldn’t pick out candy in the checkout line. Grandma did good.

We navigated safely through the busy parking lot to the car. I carefully put the full cart at the back of the car in such a way that it won’t roll anywhere while I help the kids into their seats. Owen is having a sweatshirt challenge, but we figure it out and I get them buckled in. Feeling pretty competent in general, I get in and start the car.

Oh, look! No cars parked opposite me, so I pull straight out instead of backing up. The Prius has this great turn radius. I’m telling you, it can turn on a dime.

We drive home. I use the brand new garage door opener to open the brand new garage door. I help the kids out of the car. I open the trunk to carry in the groceries. Then I shriek:  Oh no!!! Where are the groceries! Natalie, where are the groceries?

In the grocery cart, Grandma.

Feeling like someone with the I.Q. of a gnat, I do everything I wrote above in reverse and get us back to the Save Mart, praying that the cart with our groceries will still be in the parking lot so I don’t have to go in and tell anyone that I forgot them and ask them if someone found them.

The cart was definitely not in the parking lot. With a child held firmly in each hand, we trudge up to the store. I’m in luck (if you can call it that). The bagger who helped us the first time we were there was collecting carts in the lot. We catch up with her and I ask her if anyone found a cart full of groceries in the parking lot.

Why? Did you lose your cart? she asks.

No, I drove off without loading the groceries in the car.

Recognition crosses her sweet young face. I remember you!

So in we go while she flags down the customer service manager to explain my dilemma. He says, yeah, there’s a cart of groceries in the cooler. You can check if it’s hers.

I’m thinking, how many people forget their groceries anyway? Does he think it could possibly belong to someone else?

The bagger comes back with a full cart and says, Are these your groceries?

I identify them as mine, and she says (her voice full of concern): Would you like me to put them in your car for you?

I assure her that I won’t forget them twice in one day.

On the way home, for the second time, Natalie reminds me (with a giggle) that I left our groceries in the cart. Four times. When Ron calls from distant parts to check in on us, she yells: Tell Grandpa about the groceries that you forgot!  When we are waiting for her dad to come pick her up the next day she asks: Can I tell Daddy about the groceries?

I can feel it in my bones. The story of the forgotten-groceries-episode is going to become a family legend. I won’t be remembered for my fearlessness in removing a wide variety of critters from the house after the cats drag them in. Nor for introducing her to the wonder of playing hide and seek in the dark with flashlights.

Nope. From now on I will be The Grandma Who Drove Home Without The Groceries.

Just try to beat that.