(From my "Instructions Not Included" blog)

I love grocery shopping, I really do, believe it or not. I love cruising the aisles and picking out items for my fridge and pantry. I like taking my time, reading labels, perusing sales, filling my cart.

But I don't like it so much with the kids and the husband in tow.

It typically ends up with three kids in tow by about the middle of the shopping trip. Some of you moms know what I mean. The husband often reverts to child-like behavior right along with the girls and starts tossing all kinds of extra stuff into the shopping cart hoping I wouldn't notice.

And picking on each other. Oh. My. Do those three ever pick. "Mom! he/she/it is looking at me!" "Mom! Tell him/her/it to stop!" "Mom! I want (fill in the blank) Can I have (fill in the blank)? If you really loved me you'd let me have (fill in the blank.)

I say no until my voice is hoarse and my head throbs and they never manage to get a clue.

I usually try to lose them by running around the end of the aisle and hiding behind the stack of soda or green beans. But they always find me. No matter how well I think I'm hiding, they find me. I think they've managed to attach some kind of tracking system to my body because they ALWAYS seem to know where I am. Always.

But Sunday I got a reprieve. I got to go shopping alone. Blissfully alone. No one but my delighted self pushing that cart up and down the aisles. I compared labels and shopped for bargains without interruption or whining. I stood in the check-out line and not once did I have to remind a child five times to keep their mitts off the candy. I loaded the bags into my cart without tripping over a kid or telling the youngest, for the 200th time, to get out of the rack below the cart.

And the best thing? I walked out of the store with everything on my list and not a single, solitary extra item sneaking into the cart without my permission.