Late Night Shopping

The cold draft trails in behind us. Entering the bright all-purpose store, I surmise my surroundings. Customers dart left and right like a bee hive, clamorous shopping carts, and a line from the checkout. And I am armed with my three boys and four year old daughter. My timing couldn’t be any better.

“We’re never getting out of here,” my thirteen year old rolls his eyes.

 “Mom, what are we doing in the store? We came here yesterday.” Ten year old Kenny asks.

I pat Kenny’s back, “Get me a basket.”

 “I forgot something from the store. I have a short list for you Jordan.”

Out of my back pocket I whip out my phone and text him the few items I forgot. The necessities to a full house mean: toilet paper, another jug of soda since the twins, milk, bananas, bread, eggs, butter, blueberries, and lunch ham. With a big family, there can never be a short list.

“This isn’t short? Toilet paper, soda?” Jordan moans.

“I have another list, and I’ll get those supplies. Please get something that is at a decent price.”

Ten year old twins, Kyle and Kenny, start laughing. I turn around and I notice both of them cracking themselves up. By themselves they can have a great time saying goofy stuff:

“Remember when her cup fell in the sink this morning?” Kenny asks.

“Mia shrieked when the water splashed!” Kyle gestures to Kenny and nods. 

They burst out laughing.

I turn to Jordan and say, “I need you to get another basket and get those things.”

Jordan looks up from his phone and shrugs without looking up, “Fine.”

“And take the twins with you.”

“The twins?” he moans.

“Yes your brothers,” I say.

“Mom, why can’t you take them?”

“Jordan.” His attitude wears me out. “I know it’s a risk to send you out with the twins. But of all people, I trust you to complete the list. Besides, I need to take your sister to the bathroom and I don’t want the twins waiting outside for me. Gives them the perfect opportunity-”

“To screw up,” he mutters.

“Get into mischief.”

The boys laugh mischievously.

“Kyle!” Jordan walks past me and flicks his brother’s head. “Don’t dig your finger into Kenny’s ear.”

If need be, Jordan can be the big brother I need him to be. He’ll keep an eye for the twins despite his angst.

“Thank you, Jordan.”

“Yeah, mom.”

“Let’s be in and out the store in thirty minutes! Call me when you’re done with the list.”

“Okay!” Jordan walks off with the twins.

“Come on guys.”

Kyle and Kenny walk off behind Jordan.

I take a pit stop to the restroom. Mia is four years old but she is easily spooked. Whether it’s a cup in the sink, or her brother standing behind her without her knowledge; she’ll flinch, shake, and scream. Because of her timidity, I rarely let Mia go anywhere alone.

“Come on, Mia.”

I head inside. Mia clutches my hand, and following behind my leg.

As I wait for Mia outside the stall, I glance over my list. My list is shorter but not the least important.

I mutter, “Socks for Jordan.”

Jordan’s socks were sucked in the vacuum cleaner. Hence, the necessity:

I nod, “Another vacuum and a gift for John,”

A little something to uplift his spirits, for the last few weeks his boss has called him in to work weekends and work late hours. Extra money goes a long way, but an even longer toil on his body.

John didn’t start working at the factory. He was happy with contracting with a company uptown but, when he got laid off finding another company hasn’t been easy. Coming up with a vocation that can afford our family needs. John isn’t afraid of hard work, and is willing to do whatever to provide for the family. Even at the expense of his happiness and comfort. He was willing to work at a factory until he found another contractor. It has been six months.

After the bathroom, I take Mia and we head to the boys section. I grab a pack of socks and consider, “Would John like some fuzzy pajamas?”

Fabric that feels like a fluffy cloud, you could die in. I shake my head, that’s too plushy for him.

Mia and I move on. We walk by the vacuum cleaners and grab one and put it in the basket. As I push the cart, I consider other ideas to get John.

Perhaps, something that makes John feel like he’s at home. He could take it to work and put on his desk at the factory. John feels most at home when he’s doing woodwork. He and the boys would go out in the garage and bring out the tools and have at it. Whether it’s the tree house or something small like a door hinge, the boys always look forward to Saturday in the garage.

John hasn’t been at home lately so that toils on the kids. I expect more out of Jordan and the twins to behave. But every once in a while, that kid indignation sparks and contention arises. Mia is the only one in the family, who takes the conflict in stride.

Mia and I check the tools section.

“Perhaps your father might like a new power drill, no…..he can’t take that to work with him,” I mutter. Then I chuckle to myself. Imagining my husband take a twenty dollar an electric drill and set it on his desk at work.

Mia says, “Daddy wants a drill?”

“No, he won’t.”

“What are you doing mommy?”

“I’m buying your dad a present,” I skim through the shelves throughout the aisles, “I can’t decide what your daddy would like best.”

“Present? Is it daddy’s birthday?”

“That’s all you got out of it, huh?” I chuckle. “No, it’s not daddy’s birthday I’m just getting him something nice.”

I glance at all the tools. Granted, none of them he could take to work but perhaps it would be something to look forward to with the boys. I’m clueless when it comes to power tools, I should’ve kept the boys with me on this one.

 I mutter, “Whatever, it’s not like he’s going to use it soon anyway. I should probably get him another coffee mug. He’s always taking that Contigo mug to work…and leaving it there.”

I stroll to the coffee mugs around people idling in the middle of the aisle. As if to test my patience, Mia starts touching the mugs. A pet-peeve of mine is Mia touching things. It’s not enough for Mia to look at it, she has to touch it, and when she touches it the possibility is things could break.

“What about the princess one?” Mia touches.

“No, Mia, don’t touch the cup.” I guide her little hands away from the mugs. “Besides, I don’t think your dad want’s a princess cup.”

“No, I want the princess cup.”

“You like it?”

“Uh, huh. I love it,” she picks it up.

“Maybe another time,” I take the cup from her and set the cup down.

I glance at the coffee makers.

He does go out to Starbucks pretty often. Perhaps, coffee at home will lighten the load. Then again, John does enjoy the spice latte, especially the pumpkin spice at Starbucks.

Then another idea came to mind, an iPhone charger! John has been using mine in the mornings when I use it at night.

I check my phone, “Ten minutes. We better hurry,” I say.

Mia is the opposite of hurry. Her tiny feet seem to drag us down slower than her singing voice. After a point, I tell her, “Mia, we need to hurry.”

Not like I expect her to understand, but she at least stopped humming to herself.

 We look down the electronics section.

I hear a shout, all too familiar tone. I walk up the aisle and see Kyle by himself playing a video game. “Yeah!”

“Kyle?” I asked.

Kyle turns to me, shock sparks his face and his head drops, “Mom.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I went to the bathroom and then I saw the video game.”

“Where’s your brother?”

“Jordan and Kenny were in the baking aisle when I left them.”

“Then who went with you to the bathroom?”

“Nobody. Jordan told me to go and meet him in the produce section.”

Kyle puts a jug of milk and toilet paper into the basket. The fact that Kyle kept those items with him as he went into the bathroom is unfathomable. Details I do not want to grasp at the moment.

“Come on, Kyle.” In the most reserved tone I could.

All three of us head to the produce section. If anything he should be there. As we walk past, other shoppers and meander through traffic indignation burns in the pit of my stomach.

I expected better from him.

In the produce section I see Kenny dilly-dallying about the fruit. I take a deep breath and say, “Kenny?”

It came out too forceful, because Kenny jerks and turns around.

“Yes mam?”

“Where’s Jordan?” the intensity in my voice was waning.

“He went to the frozen aisle to get a carton of ice-cream.”

“Ice-cream isn’t on the list.”

“He wanted to surprise you.”

I whip out my phone and call Jordan. Kenny then picks up a few more items and puts them in the basket. “I don’t have time for this. We’re supposed to meet your dad at the house in half an hour.”

I call him twice. No answer.

“You said he was in the frozen aisle.”

“Yes mam.”

“Come on, Kenny, let’s go.”

With three kids, a full shopping basket I make my way across the grocery to the frozen aisle. When we arrive to the ice-cream section Jordan was nowhere to be seen.

“Where could he be?” I mutter.

Kenny shouts, “Over there!” he points in the direction of going traffic.

“Don’t shout, Kenny,” I grab his wrist and say.

Kyle waves, “Jordan! Over here!”

Jordan turns around and walks towards us.

I meet him halfway, “Jordan, where have you been? Why haven’t you answered my calls?” Frustration couldn’t explain what I felt. My twin boys, ten year old boys were left in the middle of the store. They could’ve been snatched or worst, get eat the apples or spilling a jug of milk in the electronics section.

“My phone was dead.” He shrugs avoiding my eye gaze.

“Really?” I strike out a hip, “How much battery did you have when we came in the store?”

“Twenty percent,” he looks at his feet now.

“Jordan that is irresponsible. If you need to charge your phone in the car just say so. Never go anywhere without your phone being completely charged,” I say.

“I’m sorry mom, it won’t-”

“Jordan you left Kenny in the fruit section and Kyle half across the store! What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Got that right,” I mutter. “You will not have your phone for the next two weeks.”

“But mom-” he whines.

I stick my hand out. I have no time for this. Jordan reluctantly hands me his phone.

“I trusted you. To look after your brothers, to keep up with them and keep your phone charged. If you can’t do that, then you shouldn’t have one.”

Jordan moans, “Why are you doing this to me? I’m thirteen. I don’t know any better.”

“I expected better from your Jordan. Come on, let’s check out.”

Forget the shopping list; I need to get out the store. Too many people, too many incidents, we just need to leave.

I have the boys head on up to cash register. We stood in line for ten minutes. In those ten minutes, Kenny and Kyle play amongst themselves and Mia picks at her jacket. Jordan stared at the magazines. After the ten minutes, my anger started to dwindle. I knew coming into the store was a bad idea from the start.

The boys and Mia start to load items out of the basket and onto the conveyor belt.

“Busy day,” I say.

“You have no idea,” the lady behind the counter says.

“Good for business, I suppose.”

“It is. A little too good, I’ve been on my feet for four hours every day this week.”

“Huh.”

“Every once in a while, I’d like to have a coffee break if you know what I mean.”

Coffee? Brilliant idea, another plan formulates in my mind. I glance at my watch, if we go in the drive thru. The children and I can hit the road in fifteen minutes. Not like fifteen minutes isn’t too bad.

“I can see where you’re coming from.”

The lady runs up the order. Soon after our packages were bagged, we head out into the cold dark parking lot. Load up the kids in the minivan and head to Starbucks. Jordan in the front seat, the twins side by side, and Mia in her car seat taking her precious time.

After I settle the children down, we drive thru Starbucks and I get the children a cup of hot chocolate, a latte for myself, and a pumpkin spice latte for John. I hope the latte would stay warm for the ride home.

While waiting for our order, I clear my throat.

 “I’m sorry, Jordan.” I look at him and sigh in disappointment. “I expected better from you and I know you can do it…. Sometimes, I forget that with your dad being at work, that you’re the big brother. And sometimes, big brothers make mistakes.”

“I’m sorry, mom. It won’t happen again.”

“I know Jordan.”

After a moment of being mended, Jordan rubs his hands.

 “So, I can have my phone back?” he asks.

 The lady at the window hands me our order. As I pass out the hot chocolate, “Careful it’s hot. Maybe you can earn your phone back at the end of the week.”

“End of the week?” he moans.

“Could be two weeks,” I shrug.

“A week is just fine,” Jordan takes his chocolate and sits in the seat.

I set John’s latte in Jordan’s hand, “Will you hold your dad’s latte?”

Jordan nods, “Sure thing.”

I look at everybody. “Are we good?”

Everybody nods.

Kenny takes a good long sip; then he burps.

“Excuse me,” I say.

Kenny says, “Thank you.”

I glance at Kenny. We both laugh and Kyle joins in.

“That was gross,” Mia shakes her head.

I look at Mia, Kenny, Kyle, and Jordan. I put the car in drive, “You’re right, that was sure was.”

Being a mother is hard work, long hours but I wouldn't want to be anybody else but a proud mother of four beautiful children.