A Shining Parental Moment

Okay, so three hours in the car doing errands, including a visit to Walmart (the other Evil Empire), left me will a very short supply of patience yesterday.

I object to Walmart on a philosophical level, since they bring their big boxes into my community and outsell all the small businesses here. I try not to shop there, and prefer to spend my money either at an independent or at least at a Canadian-owned chain. But, after visits to four second-hand clothing shops, and six other stores, looking for size 6 boy's winter boots, I found myself staring at the wall o' boots at Wallymart. The road to hell is paved with very small, insulated, plastic boots made in the third world, probably by children with cold feet.

And so, at the end of the day, when the Sprout and I arrived home from daycare, I asked him to try on his new boots. (I was also trying to get him dressed and out the door quickly so we could pick up Jimbo). Oh, the screaming, the kicking, the carrying on. And all at once, I'd had it. "Fuck!!!!", I hollered, and left the room.

It had so little to do with the Sprout and so much to do with the shopping experience. I was vastly proud of myself. I don't think I've scarred the Sprout for life, and perhaps he has forgotten Mummy's momentary indiscretion. Jimbo is confident, now, though, that he can blame any future swearing, that the baby does, squarely on me. And he is probably right.

This shining parental moment has been brought to you by the Library Squirrel.