Costco

Yesterday we went to Costco. It was a bit rough.

Driving four kids through that sea of humanity while arguing with my husband about which fish to have for dinner, was a but stressful. There was the usual : lost child, customer angered by one of our children running into them with a cart and chastising of a child who snuck a second sample. More diligent parents looked on with disapproval. 

I also lost my husband while searching for cranberries that weren't there. Later to find out those same cranberries were in a tremendous, hard to miss, display in the front of the store, on sale for half price. If I wouldn't have lost  my husband (and my cool) I may have discovered that.

As I checked out, Asher fell on the concrete floor. He was then found bending over in the lunch line, with his bottom in the air. I finally bent over and heard what he was asking, "Mommy, kiss bottom? Hurt bottom." I was able to pat his bottom and redirect the kiss to the other cheeks, thank heaven.

Finally we arrived home and, amid screaming and whining, proceeded to unload the van. Somehow Asher was left alone to decide which item to help carry in. Naturally he chose the bottle of wine.

 

He made it half way up the curb. Then he fed it to the concrete.

Later that afternoon I was discussing with Joe how we could do better as a family when shopping at Costco. I told him that he was pretty helpful but he even had a few areas he could improve. 

He nodded and answered, "Yes. I think even you have a few areas where you could improve, too."

True that son. Nothing like a family costco trip on the weekend to make one realize their utter need for Jesus.