And I’m sure it won’t be the last.

She and I were at Kroger yesterday.  We were there for three things ~ bottled water, gatorades and coffee. And we were on a timeline.  We had two other stops to make before we could come home and get her ready for a birthday party.  I bee-lined my way to the water aisle, throwing in a case as we high-tailed it to the Gatorade aisle and put that case in the cart.  The final stop was the next aisle over for coffee.  Mission accomplished.

While we were running through Kroger, gathering our three things, I heard the announcement over the loud speaker “all available help please report to the front lanes to help bag.  All available help please report to the front lanes.”

Awwww…shit!  I knew what that meant.  Lanes were backed up and that meant my timing was gonna be thrown off a little.  Since I only had three items I knew I had more options…self-checkout or express.

In situations like these, I usually chose the self-checkout but for some odd reason they had several people waiting in line so I chose the shortest of the express lanes.  What I failed to take into account was that the woman in front of me clearly couldn’t read the signs at all of the express lanes “About 15 items, please,” is what the signage says.  But by the time I realized she had about 30 items, it was too late.  I had been standing there for a couple of minutes and it would have meant more precious minutes wasted ~ waiting at another register.

So I waited.  I waited for the checker to bag the lady’s items.  I waited for the lady to finish her conversation on her cell phone.  I waited for the lady with 30 items in the express lane to finish paying for her groceries.  And I waited for the lady who had a shopping cart full of groceries, in the express lane, to walk away before my inside voice came out.

“I only brought three items into the express lane…not that I’m pointing fingers at anyone.”  The checker laughed and said “Thank you!”  And Claire, God love her, actually muttered “Moooooommmm” under her breath, turned beet red and put her head down.  I finished paying for our things and we walked out of the store together.

As we were walking to the car, I asked the question…”Did I embarrass you back there?”  And I heard the answer I’ve been dreading…”Yes, you did.”  Well, shit….not really what I wanted to hear, because I thought I was a little funny (and a lot sarcastic) but at least Claire was honest with her answer.  I’m sure I’ll embarrass her more times than I’ll be able to shake a stick at.  Sometimes I’m not so good at keeping those damn inside voices inside.  So  Claire will have to learn to live with the mortification, just like I’m going to have to learn to live with the fact that, for the first time, I’ve crossed over the line and I am now fully capable of embarrassing Claire.

Oh, for the love of my children….