Wegmans

I adore Wegmans. It's a pure love, fueled by their bakery (foccacia bread, nonna's cheese bread and do not get me started on their unbelievable 'ultimate chocolate cake'!), their prepared foods, the ingenious recipes and cooking stations, and the beauty that is their drive up service. (Helping Hands guys, you rock my world. Seriously.)

But I think I could love Wegmans even more. I could. Really! If only I could convince the kiddies to enjoy an hour or so in the beauty that is WKids - climbing, playing, coloring with all the other happy kiddies. (Oh, not only do those kiddies look so happy in WKids, but I have seen some pretty joyful faces on the mommies after the WKids drop off too.)

Unlike all the other children at Wegmans, my boys prefer to enjoy their grocery shopping with me. All three of them. With me. Helping and Hugging me and Feasting aisle after aisle. No WKids for them, no sirree. We must be with our mommy All. The. Time. (Yes, I am currently authoring my own book on how to raise codependent children. Look for it at bookstores near you.)

But I was determined this morning would be different. My friend Christine agreed to meet me at Wegmans with her adorable and WKids aficionado girls Ellie and Casey to entice my children to the wonders of the WKids experience. Aidan and Brennan were psyched. Go WKids, Hurray! Drop off was a success. I set off from WKids with only one child in tow. I was one of those joyful mommies! (It's amazing how easy grocery shopping is with only one child to entertain.)

Blissful, blissful Wegmans. My love deepened for you in the bakery aisle, through the produce and up to the deli counter. But while perusing the meat counter, I faintly heard my name being announced over the loudspeakers. Hmmm, is that my name? Me? I look at my friend Christine with confusion in my eyes. She's already laughing. Yes, after only two aisles of one-child shopping bliss, I am being beckoned to return to WKids to retrieve my other two children. Damn it. DAMN IT.

I hoof it over to WKids in record time and see Aidan and Brennan standing by the entrance with tears in their eyes. I immediately think something happened, someone was hurt, some emergency must have occurred to set them off.

Nope. They just missed me. They just wanted to shop with me. They just wanted to be with me. Sigh.

After a sad, forlorn wave to Christine's kids, happily playing in WKids with all the other jubilant, engaged kiddies, I turn back to grocery shopping with a heavy heart. The joy is gone. Wegmans, I still love you - but oh, the potential is there for our relationship to go to the next level. If only my boys would cooperate.

As an added bonus to my grocery shopping, I heard Brennan singing to himself as we walked out of the store after check out. His singing was low - loud enough for me to know he was singing, but not quite loud enough for me to understand his words. Until we got outside. The wind picked up his voice and I made out a sing song, "My mommy has a v*gina, but boys have p*nises. No v*ginas for the boys only for the mommies." I started to laugh - a full out hysterical belly laugh that had tears streaming down my face. Anyone who may have seen me in the middle of the parking lot, clutching my side howling with laughter, holding a forty pound one year old with a five year old and three year old hanging on to my jacket, must have concluded I have gone and lost my mind. No worries. My mind has been gone for quite some time now.