Riding

I hesitated a bit before loading my kids into the van at 5 pm in the pouring rain. Usually we're getting ready for baths at this time but they'd both just woken up from late, surprising naps and I couldn't imagine how we'd spend the next couple hours before bedtime. Plus we really needed some foods. I handed them each a bottle of grape-flavored generic Pedialyte and off we went. Lots of teething in our household these days and, with teething apparently comes lots of disgusting poopy diapers. Who knew? Not I.

We drove in a silence which held until we ended up sitting at a red light for approximately one million minutes. I managed to switch lanes at exactly the wrong time, missing the left turn green light and then missing the straight forward green light so we had to wait until all eight directions of traffic proceeded. My daughter was not thrilled. She was crying and even my singing, which is usually very successful with them, was not cutting it.

I pulled into the strip mall (because I live in the suburbs now and strip malls are how we live) and looked hopefully for a spot right in front of Trader Joe's. No dice. I found one relatively close and turned off the van, listening to my crying child and looking out at the absolutely pouring rain, wondering what in the hell I was thinking taking two babies out into this weather just for groceries.

"Your mama is a little crazy," I told them.

Loading twins in or out of anywhere is not quick.

I ran into the rain, coat-less, and grabbed a shopping cart which I wiped off with a tiny cotton bib. Just the seat part, not the rest. I unstrapped my daughter from her car seat and put her into the cart--the first time I've ever had either of them ride there. The crying stopped immediately. I pulled her little white fleece hood covered in pink hearts over her head and buckled her in. She grabbed the cart in front of her and wiggled back and forth. Taking my rain coat out of the front seat I put the big hood on her little head and wrapped the coat around her. She looked up at me, eyes bright, face open. Wild with joy.

I brought the cart to the other side of the van and wedged it against the side, as I hooked the Ergo around my waist and grabbed my son out of his seat. We speed-walked into the store, where we stood on among the flower arrangements as I strapped my boy against my chest. He peered up at me, content. My daughter was looking all around her, absolutely thrilled with her spot in the world. And away we went.

Twenty minutes later, cart full, we headed to the check-out line. My girl twisted around and snagged a plastic-wrapped head of lettuce from the cart and held it on her lap. She hummed to herself. I asked the guy at the counter if it was okay for me to leave her in the cart. He had a very tired, grumpy look on his face.

"Sure," he said. "As long as she doesn't have a price tag."

"The price would vary depending on the day," I said.

"Don't I know it," he said.

I stepped to the front to start bagging my groceries as he rang them up. My daughter with her back to me, holding her lettuce, looked back at the store full of shoppers. A woman passing by commented:

"She doesn't have a care in the world. She's got her lettuce and she's as happy as a clam."

I smiled. My priceless girl.

When we headed out to the car she looked up at me, eyes big.

We had an adventure in the rain, my kiddos and I. It was good.