Somebody Dropped it

There was a very long period of time that I did not bring Milo with me to the grocery store. I had a variety of reasons, most of them having to do with efficiency and prevention of the predictable meltdown that would occur when I denied him Spiderman shaped sugar globs. I viewed my weekly trips to the grocery store as my treasured alone time. I took an hour, walked the aisles and came home refreshed and ready for the next Mommy adventure. Lately Milo has been requesting to accompany me again. So we tried it, labeling our very clear "store rules" in the car. These consist of the usual; sit in the cart, listen to Mommy, use our soft voices, if Mommy says no then the answer is no. Milo was fantastic that trip, and has been great on subsequent trips so long as I recognize that when he starts to raise his voice and make lots of silly shouts, his patience is wearing thin and I have approx 10 minutes to get out.

This week I prepared our weekly grocery list, carefully planned our menu, consulted with Mark on any needs, clipped coupons in the Sunday paper, flipped through the coupons I have already clipped. I was really excited for this trip, I had approximately $20 worth of coupons ready to go. This was going to be a great trip. Confession here, I play a little game with myself every week, to see if I can beat my savings from the previous week. I am a complete Mom nerd, I know this.

Milo asked, insisted, begged and pleaded for me to take him with me. I consented and off we went. He likes to hold my grocery list and cross off the items as we put them in the cart. I think the scribbling with purpose is a personal thrill for him much like my grocery savings game is for me. He is also rather fond of tossing items into the cart with reckless abandon. Eggs, he is not allowed to touch.

We make it through the whole grocery store, all items have been crossed off of my list and we find ourselves in the produce section, our last stop before checkout. Milo asks to hold my coupon envelope. "Milo holds that to help you." How can a mother resist that? I hand over the envelope and bag some lemons. We are ready to head to check out, and as I start to put the items up on the conveyor I ask Milo for the envelope.

Me: Milo can I have the envelope now?
Milo : Milo no has it.
Me: What do you mean? (I frantically start searching the cart in case he tossed it back there with reckless abandon)
Milo: Where did it go?
Me: Did you drop it? (I start throwing everything back into the cart, with reckless abandon. We must head back to produce where he has inevitably dropped it)
Milo: I didn't drop it Mommy. Who dropped it?
Me: It wasn't me. Who could it have been? (knowing glance in his direction)
Milo: Somebody dropped it

We have now returned to the produce department, I am scanning everywhere for the envelope with all my coupons in it. $20 worth, at this point I can feel that I will not be winning my game this week.

Me: Yes somebody did drop it, I wonder who it was?
Milo: He dropped it! (pointing at a very tall, nicely dressed man examining some citrus fruit)
Me: I don't think he dropped it. (Glancing at this very nice man, hoping he did not hear Milo)
Milo: He dropped it! (this time voice raised, the gentleman has turned, noticing his pint sized accuser. He looks surprised and slightly confused, obviously)
Me: I am so very sorry sir. Please excuse us.
Milo: Ooooh he dropped it, he is in mean trouble Mommy! Why did he drop it?
Me: Milo he did not drop it. I think perhaps you dropped it on accident.
Milo: Milo did not drop it. Hey where he go? Where is that guy? He is in MEAN trouble!
Me: Shoot! (Realization dawning that my $20 is gone and my son is accusing innocent strangers, fearing next he will be sending them to time out)
Milo: Oh Mommy, I am telling, you said a bad word!
Me: (Silent now, I must just get out now before I get a time out)

I am not saying Milo will never go back to the store with me again, what I can promise is that he will not be holding my coupon envelope again. My parenting skills are constantly evolving, every single day, with every single adventure we go on.