mom code

Let me guess. You thought that mom pushing the grocery cart was talking to herself, didn’t you?

Nice.

That’s fair.

I mean, Yes, moms in grocery stores are a bit kid obsessed. Yes, they often wear their babies instead of make-up. Yes, they’ll grab a loaf of dry-ass organic whole wheat for their kids, when what they really want is Wonder Bread.

And Yes, you probably did hear them mumbling something kid-related when you passed each other on every, single subsequent aisle.

But here’s a little secret: Moms don’t talk to themselves in the grocery store.

They’re not speaking to their kids either, because their kids don’t listen.

This One-Woman Show is performed for you.

Don’t believe me?

Let’s revisit:

SCENE 1: Grocery Cart Bay

Frazzled Mom whips out a ridiculously filthy cloth contraption and one-handedly ties it around the seat of the shopping cart. Her Crappy Child starts to struggle. You circumvent the situation and grab the furthest cart from them you can find.

FRAZZLED MOM: “Now Pea, I know you’re tired and you didn’t have a good nap this morning, but what did I tell you would happen if you screamed at the grocery store?”

(This REALLY means: “Yes, I hear her whining. She and I did, however, have a long discussion about behavior before we got here. I’m on top of this. Really, I am. You don’t have to go to a different store.”)

Crappy Child throws her head back. You rush past them even though you got the cart with the squeaky wheels.

FRAZZLED MOM: “Noooooo…not a chance you’ll get one of those cookies if you act like this.”

(This REALLY means: “I do not bribe my kid with sugar. A bribe is a reward for bad behavior – this is a plan because we discussed it before we got here. It is a reward for the good behavior I swear she’s capable of. Hey! She wasn’t even allowed a cookie until she was two.”)

*          *          *

SCENE 2: The Produce Aisle

FRAZZLED MOM: “Stop that! You know you’re not supposed to touch the bananas when I’m not looking. And you’re a big girl, you don’t just grab a grape from the display and eat it.”

(This REALLY means: “This is bullsh*t. Of course I feed my child. Just not today. We’re completely out of food, which is the only reason why we’re here. If we had even a heel of bread, canned corn and a raisin I’d MacGyver it into a healthy lunch. I’ll tell you what. Just look the other way and I promise to let you cut if I reach the register before you.”)

*          *          *

SCENE 3: The Register

Not a lot to do, so you look around. There’s that frazzled mom and her crappy child again. Wow, you didn’t notice before just how poorly dressed they are. When and if you’re a parent some day, you’ll never let your kid out of the house looking like that.

Without turning to face you, this woman with mind-reading skills you’ve never before experienced replies to your damning thoughts:

FRAZZLED MOM: “I’m so proud of you, Pea. I can’t believe that you picked out your clothes and got dressed all by yourself today.”

(This REALLY means: “I’m not blind. I know that a bathing suit, a tutu, snow boots and three headbands does not equal an outfit. I could have shamed her into a matching wardrobe, but since I already appear crazy, I sacrificed my own self-esteem for hers.)

*          *          *

So if you wouldn’t mind, do a mom a favor.

I’m not asking for a standing ovation or anything, but the next time you decipher Mom Code, please respond to her feeble attempts with a nod or a smile. You don’t even have to say anything.

Just remember, you get to go home and forget you ever ran into her and her battered-looking-banana-peel-cookie-crumb-eating kid who is two sizes too big for that princess bathing suit.

She, on the other hand will spend a chunk of the day obsessing about what you really thought when she stepped onto the scene with her mess of a child.

She’s doing her best.

You just can’t always tell.

photograph (c) 2006 Torri

Tags: bribes, grocery shopping, grocery store, kids, moms, rewards