Thursday, February 24, 2011

Hot Dogs

Grocery stores are fun with small children.  So many things can happen while shopping for the weekly feed.  I always would take a deep breath and say a small prayer before entering our local warehouse grocery store with three small children in tow.  My husband was in school full time and at one point had a full time job and two part time jobs.  I had no option but to take my sweet monsters with me.  I got good at it, priding myself in not having to leave the cart in the store while I walked out with a screaming child in a football hold too often. 
The kids all had their places.  My youngest, Connor, sat in the front of the cart, Eddie the middle child, in the cart, and my daughter Emma would hang on the end or skip up and down the aisles singing Disney tunes.  One particular trip, Connor, who was around 2 at the time, asked to have hot dogs.  Sure, ok.  As I was handing them to Eddie in the cart, Connor said VERY loudly “HOT DOGS!” I gathered from his frantic gestures that he wanted to hold the package.  That little boy clutched those hot dogs in a white knuckled grip all through the store saying “hot dogs” over and over again whilst staring at his precious find.  When we got to the checkout, I had to wrestle the package out of his tiny but unnaturally strong vise like grip so the woman could scan them through.  Connor held them all the way home.  Fortunately when we got home, he let me put them in the freezer for later consumption.

For the next year or so, any time we went into ANY grocery store, Connor had to have HOT DOGS.  As soon as we would walk into a store, Connor would announce to all passing by that he was in the store for hot dogs. It kept him quiet; they weren’t expensive and took up little space in the freezer. Hey, I was more worried that Eddie would fall out of the cart, hit his head and have brain damage and Emma would be taken by some freaky people that couldn’t have children. I got one who just wants to sit and stare at a hot dog package?  No problem.  One less child to worry about.  It got to the point that my husband said, “Look, we don’t have any more room.”  And with great flourish opened the freezer door. Oscar Meyer packages abounded.  Oh, ok.  Now I have to find a way to break Connor of his hot dog habit.  It’s like weaning a baby off his binky.  No problem, right?

Oh my GOODNESS!  You would have thought I was easing Connor, my sweet baby, off heroin.  I was not prepared for the repercussions that would ensue…..I would have to start talking about the checkout process with him almost immediately upon entering the grocery store. Remind you, he’s two.  I would assure Connor that he had his hot dogs and that they would come home with us.  In time, it got easier for him to give up the package at the check through, and he didn’t mind the hot dog package going into the “take home” bag.  I also included him in the unpacking of groceries at home.  He was in constant check of those dang Oscar Meyers. Finally months later, Connor could hold the package of hot dogs and let the checkout girl ring them through without incident.  What Connor didn’t know, was that I was telling the girl, oh we don’t need these hot dogs after all.  You can just put these back…..
We finally ate through all the dogs, and shared a few packages with the neighbors.  For a time, it was the only food Connor would eat at any one else’s house.  Now, as a strapping young man, the thought of eating a hot dog is repellent to him.  That’s what makes this memory so interesting.  A little boy who was so attached to a food product could now care less about it.  Makes me think, what did I do to help this kid.  Would this technique cure junkies?  Alcoholics?  Obsessive Compulsives?  No, I was just a Mom trying to grocery shop without meltdowns.  You would do the same, wouldn’t you?

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