It had been a long time since I’d been inside a Waitrose. A combination of online deliveries, Sainsburys being closer and Lidl being a whole lot cheaper. But I needed to pick up a John Lewis order (I am obviously too cheap to pay for delivery costs so I chose the Click & Collect option). I figured I had enough time after picking up Lebu from nursery before dinner.
It didn’t get off to a good start when Lebu started getting upset that we were not going to the usual shop across the road and were instead stuck in local rush hour traffic. Once there I grabbed a trolley but Lebu was determined not to get in it. I sighed. I knew there was going to be a riot but I hoped I wouldn’t be long, I just needed to pick up some eggs and bread.
Mishty picked up the handheld scanner and gave it to me to use. These make life easier if you are on your own, or have only one child safely contained in a trolley. TOP TIP ALERT! If you have two children who are able to run off this will actually make life harder, as they will both fight over who gets to scan an avocado that has been chosen purely because it’s on offer.
Lebu does grasp the concept of sharing but this depends on his mood. At 5.30pm after a long day at nursery and with hunger pangs beginning to gnaw in his tummy, his mood for sharing is like the avocado I picked – not ripe. Instead he holds on to the scanner while Mishty tries to grab it. I join in. The scanner gets thrown into the trolley. Mishty being a lot taller, can now reach it and proceeds to smugly scan a loaf of bread. Lebu has a shit fit. I try to soothe this by going down the biscuit aisle. I suggest some Fingers but Mishty wails that I will eat them all in one go (I’ve only done this once) and wants Bourbon biscuits over my preferred chocolate Digestives. In disgust, I take the Fingers and scan them anyway, mentally vowing to eat them all.
We move on but now Lebu is howling unintelligibly. I make out the word “chocat” and try to explain the concept of paying first before opening things. More howls. Fuck it. I rip open the packet with my teeth and give them one each. Mishty is now trying to convince me to buy £12 worth of sushi on the basis that I have a voucher that gives me £4 off if I spend £20. I haggle it down to £6. I go to scan it and realise that Lebu has inadvertently deleted several items off the list and is finding it hysterically funny to throw a mini pizza around. While I put it back Mishty starts complaining that it is definitely his turn to scan and Lebu starts hitting him in response. To avoid him getting a retaliatory thumping from Mishty, I scoop him up and tell Mishty to push the trolley just as a random lady tells them to calm down. I am not entirely clear if she is trying to help or tell them off. Either way, we are well in the danger zone now. Like literally the homeware aisle contains a lot of breakables and Lebu does not like strangers telling him what to do. I hold my breath and wait for it.
“I WAAAAAAAANT MY DADDDDDDDDYYYYYYY!!!”
This is now being screamed at the top of his lungs while I stride towards the self-scan checkout which incidentally, is not quicker as I have to wait for an attendant to scan in the voucher which doesn’t seem to be working. We work out the reason is because Mishty is leaning on the counter which is triggering the weighing function. I spot a security guard in front of us and tell Lebu that the man will arrest him if he doesn’t behave. The guard gamely goes along but Lebu doesn’t buy it and has now moved onto hitting me instead of Mishty as we walk to the collection point. I can hear an attendant vainly telling him “to be a good boy and be nice to your Mummy” and I have to swiftly move him away from a flower pot that he is walking deliberately towards with the air of an impending “grab and smash”. The lady at the counter asks me sympathetically if it’s been a long day. It’s literally only been an hour but I know I look like a frazzled mother who is clearly not in control as my hair is being tugged and there are loud wails of “I WANNNA GO HOOOOOMMME”. I pick up the boxes and turn to leave when she tells me to hold on.
A colleague standing next to her is doing something on the till and I assume she wants me to wait for a collection receipt that is being printed off. But as she hands me this, there is also a big bunch flowers with it. I look at them blankly. I didn’t order them. Did Hubby? No, he never spends more than a fiver and usually gets the half dead ones that are on offer. It must be a mistake. She says that they are for me for being so calm with the kids while they’ve been such a handful. It takes me a second before it dawns on me that they feel sorry for me for having to deal with such feral kids. I look at the beautiful bunch and start blubbering embarrassingly over this unexpected act of kindness. This is the nicest thing that has happened to me in a long time.
After thanking them profusely, I float back to the car on a cloud of good cheer, marveling at the kindness of strangers and thinking… this would never have happened if I’d gone to Lidl!
Mishty in my belly 