Supermarket Escape

I took my two kids to the supermarket last week thinking it would be a quick trip.
You know… milk, bread, a few things for dinner. In and out.
I should have known better the moment my three-year-old insisted on pushing the trolley “all by myself mummy.”

Which actually meant pushing it directly into every shelf in the store.
About halfway through the shop, my baby started crying because he dropped his dummy. My three-year-old then tried to help by picking it up and putting it back in the baby’s mouth… after it had rolled halfway down the cereal aisle.

So that was great.

I took the dummy back, wiped it with the only thing I had (a baby wipe that had already been used to clean banana off someone’s face), and carried on.

By the time we got to the checkout, I was already mentally preparing myself for the classic “can I have this” negotiation over chocolate.
But instead, my three-year-old just quietly disappeared.

I turned around and he was gone. For about three seconds my heart stopped.

Then I spotted him about five metres away proudly standing next to a random elderly man saying,
“This is my grandpa.”

The man looked just as confused as I did.
I apologised, grabbed my child, and tried to explain that we do in fact have our own grandparents and do not need to collect new ones from Woolworths.

The man laughed and said, “Honestly, I’ll take him. Mine are grown up now.”

Anyway, we eventually made it home with the milk, the bread… and three Kinder Surprises I absolutely did not approve.

And apparently my son is now actively shopping for replacement grandparents.

— Anonymous Mum