My crowning glory

True story.

Costco is J's favorite place in the world.

He will actually beg to go to Costco.

We go once a week. And saying that last sentence makes me feel the opposite of claustrophobic. Free? Sure, free will do. FREE! It makes me feel FREE! The thought of going to Costco, ever, in Hawaii made me want to vomit. Let alone once a month. And never weekly. I just hated the drive, the planning, the drive... but mostly just the drive.

Costco is less than two miles from my house. I plan out our meals a week at a time, jot down a grocery list, and go. If I need something last minute?? Oh, I just head right on over. Sometimes just ride me bike. Ya know, no big deal. Sigh. It's liberating. However, if the shopping is left to do last minute, I "get" to take the kids with me Monday morning.

And, let's be honest. The shopping usually always gets done on Monday.

After humoring J and browsing the isles, letting him "Ohhhhh" and "Ahhhh" over things like 3-hole-punchers, and enough deodorant to satisfy a third world country, we were ready to roll. For some reason, everyone in Fullerton was ready to check out at the same time we were. Good thing my kids were full from all the wonderful samples, joint juice, and nachos, otherwise things might have gotten a little scary.

Hugh, my very good natured, loving, always-has-a-huge-grin-on-his-face, happy-go-lucky, mellow child was sitting next to J in the over sized cart. Some very nice women joined the mass chaos, and parked their carts behind ours. Immediately, they start drooling over Hugh, which is generally what happens on cue when you get "old people" and babies together. You know the drill.

And you would have thought Satan himself was trying to murder my son. As soon as the nice lady with grey hair said, "Oh hello there---" Hugh's bottom lip started shaking, his eye brows furled, and life was over. He started shaking. And frantically looking for me, as I had merely walked to the front of the cart to rearrange some items so J wouldn't break his neck reaching for the muffins he poked a hole in earlier.

It was the strangest thing. Really. I walked into Hugh's peripheral vision, and once he saw me, the clouds parted, and once again, the human-angel was back to his normal status of perfection. I rubbed his bright red, tear-stained cheeks, "Hey. You're ok! Say hi."

As he shuddered one last time, he gave me his normal cheesy grin. All was well.

And then the other nice lady behind us had the nerve to look around my body, and offend my offspring in such a way by saying, "Oh, you beautiful thing! You are such a good---" and all hell broke loose again.

I guess Hugh has a thing against harmless, really sweet, grandmothers. He was not having it. Going ballistic. I have never seen this happen before. I was dumbfounded. I just kind of shrugged my shoulders and tried to apologize. Not sure what the deal was.

They weren't offended, and decided to turn their attention to the other human in the cart. J, being the cooperative, loving child he is, immediately GROWLED at them, and said, "Oh my gosh. Do not touch me." It's his new thing: Oh my gosh. And if people could melt into a puddle of ARE-YOU-KIDDING-ME, I would have.

So, being fully capable of handling awkward situations with poise and ease, I just stood there. Like an idiot. Looking at my kids. Looking at the strangers. With nothing to say. My baby was having convulsions, and my toddler defiantly had his arms crossed.

It was so awesome.