Shopping, empty-handed

After the ballgame Saturday, my girls headed off with Grandpa for the week. Dowlan, Charlie and I aren't heading that way until tomorrow.

The first day they were gone was spent sleeping. The second day was spent cleaning. The third, cleaning some more. Today was spent shopping.

My friend April and I went to Costco, then I hit GameStop, Barnes & Noble, browsed Restoration Hardware, Whole Foods and a few other places that all have one thing in common: going there with kids makes me insane.

Without kids, shopping is such a surreal experience. Even the act of getting in the car without anyone else's socks or shoes or coat or diaper to concern myself with is an incredibly liberating act. While driving, I can listen to whatever I wish to hear, however loudly I wish to hear it. And, while parking, if I need to mutter some harsh or threatening words, no one is around to hear them.

Then the truly amazing part begins: I unbuckle my seat belt, open a single door, lock it, close it and go into the store. That is all. There is no stroller, no bag, no unclicking of carseats, no screaming STOP at the short person meandering into traffic, no stubborn refusal to go into THAT store. No one is bickering. I don't have to review rules of civil behavior first--I can just walk.

Inside, I can go down any aisle I wish. I don't have to avoid aisles involving toys, candy or breakable things. I took the shortcut through the wine section and nothing was destroyed. There was no one to influence my purchasing decisions--nothing snuck into my cart as my attention was elsewhere.

Charlie is enjoying having all the toys to himself but did find one major downside to having the girls gone--when he tried to blame Dixie for something he did, there was no Dixie nearby.