Last Friday we went to the grocery store. It started out as a shopping trip like any other ... until we pulled into the parking lot. To preface, Katie and Joe had imagined for themselves little rabbits. Katie had Violet and Rosie, Joe had Jonathan and Johnny. When I told the kids to unload from the van, Joe had his little hands cupped close to his chest and said, "I can't get out, Mommy!" His unfeeling mother said, "Just put them down." No, that would not do! These were BABY rabbits. Then Katie saved the situation by saying, "Jonathan is big enough to hop on his own." So Joe set Jonathan down. We're in the parking lot, and I tell Joe to hold my hand, which he clearly cannot do because he's holding his (imaginary) rabbit in that hand! I actually leaned down and let him put the rabbit on my shoulder! Not to be outdone, Katie decides that I have to hold Rosie for her. Yes, I leaned down the OTHER shoulder so that she could put her (imaginary) rabbit there. The mark of a dedicated mother is whether she walks into the store as if she is really balancing bunnies on her shoulders. Apparently I am an extremely dedicated mother.
While shopping, the rabbits did not make much of a disturbance, though I'm sure that passersby thought our family completely insane. The trouble came halfway through the trip. I am in a daze trying to decide which kind of pasta to get when I realize that my kids are arguing over something. Joe starts crying -- I mean, really crying. Katie says immediately, "I didn't DO anything!"
Having been her mother for 7 1/2 years, I know this is a fib. Joe explains, tearfully, "Katie took my sword!"
I look at Katie, who does appear to be carrying an imaginary sword. She responds, "But he can't have it, because ..." (I didn't actually catch her reasoning. I don't guess it mattered. My brain was too busy trying to process the fact that the argument was over an IMAGINARY sword.)
In Solomon-like wisdom, I say, "For Pete's sake, Katie, give him his sword back and imagine yourself another one!" I have obviously completely given up making sense at this point.
The good news is that Ingle's has graciously decided to allow me to continue shopping at their store, providing that I come alone.