There are times when I am not above using my children as weapons in whatever warfare I find myself involved in. Ok, let's get real- I'm never above using my children as weapons- metaphorically, of course. I don't want them to get hurt- then I would have to waste my valuable time nursing them.
Anyway, after swimming at the gym today (I can still only swim thanks to my broken toe. I'm so delicate.), the boys and I headed to the Wal-Marts for some food and to get L's oil changed. We were next in line when we pulled around to the car place (is that the official department name?) and there was much rejoicing because I was tired, the boys were tired and hungry, and we were moments away from a breakdown. The only question was which one of the three of us would go first. Personally, I had odds on myself as they have completely screwed with my Wal-Mart of choice and everytime I go there is a new wall and everything is moved around backwards. I don't like change. Did you know that about me? Unless I'm the instigator, and then I think change is the best thing ever. I'm consistent like that
After walking in circles and finally finding everything we came for (except for the thing I forgot to put on my list, but I can hardly hold Wal-Mart responsible for my own stupidity), we checked out and headed back over to the car place. We were second in line to check out, and I could tell our car had already moved through the little up and down thing back out to the parking lot. You don't come here for the automotive lingo, do you? If so, you may need to seek some proffessional help.
As we waited, I realized that the yahoo in front of me was a complete moron and that this might take a while. See, he had purchased a power washer at another Wal-Mart in town a few days ago. Then he came to the jacked up Wal-Mart today and found the same power washer clearanced for a hundred dollars less. So he up and bought it. And then he strolled with it back to the automotive center (that's what it is called!) and demanded that they refund him the hundred dollars he spent on other one. Even though he had neigther the original receipt nor the original power washer on him. The poor kid working the desk tried to explain it as nicely as he could, and told him best option was to take the new power washer and the old receipt to the other Wal-Mart, where they would no doubt happily refund his money. He didn't budge. He wanted his money and why did they think they could cheat him like this? I didn't get a good look at him, but I suspect he was missing a few teeth. That's mean, but it's what I was thinking.
We were barely into this drama when H2 decided he had had ENOUGH. And when he has had enough, he means it. He started screaming. It's peircing, that darling's bellow. He stood up in the cart (and was promptly sat back down by his ever watchful mother). He took off both of his shoes and threw them across the room. He hit his mommy in the chest, then repented and pulled her close for a hug, then repented and hit her again. And he screamed some more. He finally laid down in the little seat sideways with his feet hanging over the edge and screamed and screamed and screamed. Have I mentioned the screaming? Oy, there was lots of screaming. I could have tried to console him or shush him up (as if that would work on my little hot blooded latin), but I didn't. I just let him wail, and I shot some pointed, but wasted, looks at the dolt in front of me.
Finally, they begged me to go check out in sporting goods. And H2 screamed on. Until he got in the car, where he immediately fell asleep, except for the little cry in his sleep until we got home. He was plumb worn out from his display. I would like to think that the man in front of me learned a valuable lesson about gentlemanly behavior towards mothers traveling with small children, but I suspect he thought I was a terrible parent and that my kids were brats. Which is unfair, because Hatchling was being good. Sort of. Anyway, that's what my morning was like.
In other news, on Friday, I was holding H2, who rarely says anything other than 'no' and 'Hatchling', and I said 'I love you H2' and he said, clear as a bell, 'I love you too'. I nearly fell out of my chair. What a sweet, sweet little pumpkin. I think I'll keep him.