Who's the Boss?

OK-to be fair, grocery shopping with lil' brother at Wal-Mart has gotten somewhat better. I have been on hiatus from solo shopping with lil' brother since he was on the cusp of three. The psychological scar of being shoved on my @ss by a berserker baby with a riding toy in a Wal-Mart aisle while big kid, my 12 yr old neighbor, and startled strangers (from 3 aisles over) looked down at me with horror as a demented, red-in-the-face toddler stood over with me with a riding toy lifted over his head bellowing, "DISSSS IZZZZ MIIIIIINE!!!" isn't easily gotten over. Nor being kicked in the back of the head by little blue sneakers as I held lil' brother around the waist while the 12 yr old neighbor and big kid desperately ripped the toy from his agonized grip. Lil' brother's howl of agony and pain and betrayal was epic. And that was the moment that I swore to Mr B, "NEVER. AGAIN."

So today when lil brother knocked over 47 cans of cream of chicken soup that rolled in 59 direntions-I didn't sweat it. Everytime I stopped to consider an item and he moved the buggie 5 feet away from me so he could be in charge of the cart and I had to continually drag it back-no biggie. Unraveling 175 plastic bags at the bagging wheel because they wouldn't seperate properly as he loaded our goods-not even worthy of an eye roll. Having a hand shoving competition with him about who gets to push the overloaded buggie into the street while cars are surging for the best parking spaces? Fine-you win! And it was a close one when he pushed the cart (look, ma! no hands!) too hard and then had to run after it while the old lady in the Cadillac obliviously sailed by with inches to spare. What's a few years off a mom's life in the whole scheme of things anyway?

But just to show him who's boss, I made him listen to Mariah Carey-circa 1990's-on the way home because I am the boss-even when it doesn't look like it.