Til August, Peanut Place.

We went shopping yesterday. My mother, my sister, and I have been making these shopping trips for about 7 years now. We always shop a little bit, eat lunch together, shop a little bit more and then we go home. We've always had at least one child with us. 

Yesterday was bitter sweet. It was the last trip that we'll have til probably next summer with a kid in tow. My sister's youngest starts school this year and she was the last one. But yesterday we had three, because it's summertime. It was our first trip with more than one child in several months. My mother made several comments about how sad it was that all of our kids would be in school next year.

See the Halos?

It started out great. The kids were so happy to see each other. They all went to the playground in the mall and I got a lot of shopping done. Then as I'm checking out my phone starts ringing. Not wanting to be rude I silence it and carry on my conversation with the clerk that's checking my purchases. It rings again. It's my mother. I apologize and answer and before I can get a hello out I hear..."Nikki get her!!! Heather?! Where are you??" It was a panic filled question like I had dropped my daughter off with her and high tailed it to another state. I reassured her I was almost finished and that I would meet her at the car. 

Bags in hand, I got to the car and the kids are all strapped in. They're playing gadgets and watching a cartoon...you can almost see their halos. My sister and mother looked a little worn around the edges. They had survived. At this point I kinda hate I missed all of the fun. We discuss our lunch choices and majority wins so we go to "The Peanut Restaurant."

The Peanut Restaurant has been a popular choice with the youngest females in our party for a couple of years now. My nephew has been in school so he didn't grow to love it as the younger two have. We pull into the parking lot and a look of panic hits his face. "I hate this place. I hate peanuts. I hate country!" It was the worst thing that has happened to him in a while. The girls try to persuade him but he has none of it. Finally with a stern threat from his mother he gets out of the car, but he's not happy.... and he definitely isn't eating a peanut.

We get them all pinned one of those big long booths. Drinks and menus and crayons are distributed. We're just about settled when the one on the very back (mine of course) has to go to the bathroom. Of course she does. What is it about kids and public restrooms? My sweet daughter always has to see every bathroom in every restaurant we patron. She's also a stiff critic. I swear she's gonna be a health inspector one day. She walks in and says "Oooh this one's nice." Or "ewww they need to clean this one." So I should expect this sudden urge to go but it sneaks up on me every time. 

My wonderful sister volunteers to go, so we all get up, let them out and then back in and finally we get settled to eat. The waitress brings our food, she forgets my mother's honey mustard (which also happens every single time... she needs a bottle for her purse). The kids are sucking down sprites like they haven't had drinks in months. My sister and mother and I eat as fast as we can, like animals at a feeding trough because we know that one of the children is going to lose it eventually and we want to at least eat half of the meal that we have to pay for. 

We get done. We get boxes for the chicken strips that none of the children ate and we wait patiently for our check. Patiently we wait for a minute. Then we panic. Where is she? Why hasn't she brought our check? These kids aren't going to make it much longer. What in the world is she doing?? My mother gives her the stare. It's an old teacher look. I honestly don't even think that my mother realizes that she's doing it. It is highly effective though. Server sees the stare and hurries back with the tickets. We pay and we get the heck out of dodge. 

We try a couple more stores but at this point we have lost all control of the children. They're climbing on clothes racks; Making faces in the dressing room mirrors; Bouncing on the little couches that they put out in front of the dressing rooms. We have three choices: punish them and risk being reported to DCS, ignore them and let them run wild and risk getting asked to leave the store, or call it a day and herd them all back to the car. We go with option 3 and pack them in for the last time.

On the way back to my car, (as one kid screams because her shoe fell off) my sister looks at me and I know exactly what she's thinking. This is our last trip with kids. Only it's not bittersweet anymore. It's hard earned and well fought for. We have earned this. See you in August shopping mall!!!