Is that an egg on your face, or are you just happy to see me?

I remember some very traumatic, life scarring, I mean interesting food store trips with my son when he was little.  Most people think I'm exaggerating.  The very first time I remember realizing that food shopping was going to be challenging was the day of "The Egg Incident".  My son was still small enough to sit in the cart facing me.  This helped because I could theoretically keep an eye on him.  However, there were times when I actually had to extend my arm to pick something up to put into the cart.  A would take this as an opportunity to strike.  Twisting his body around, he would grab whatever he could reach and throw it.  Cereal boxes, large, heavy cans of yams, apples in the bag (one by one if he had enough time to eat through the plastic), you name it.  So, eventually, I had to resort to putting all the items either on the lower rung of the cart (I was grateful to still be able to use my knees back then) or wayyyyyy in the back of the cart, precariously piled up as to not topple.   This limited the amount of items I could get and thus started the more frequent trips to the food store and preferably after my husband got home from work.  The carts with the little cars?  Fuggetaboutit.  No restraint belt in those things could retain my son and his escape would almost always be coupled by my screaming, "GET BACK HERE!!!" and running through the store after him.

So, here we are, twisted child with back arched and arms extended, me trying to race through the store to get everything I desperately needed and to get out of the store without broken merchandise, toes or sanity and get him back into the car where I could legally strap him in without repercussions.  I started putting all of my items on the belt to be scanned and you know how you see things in slow motion?  Well, I didn't have a plan for "The Belt".  He easily was able to wiggle over a bit and bend from the side and he picked up a carton of eggs.  Yes, my friends, it was the 18 pack.  Not jumbo eggs mind you, but a lethal amount.  If I could have jumped up in the air, Johnny Unitas style, grabbed the eggs and took one for the team I would have, but alas, it was too late.  As the eggs hit the cashier, I would later recall how grateful I was that no one had cell phones back then, nor did YouTube exist.  Although America's Funniest Home Videos around, not too many people sat around in the food store waiting for the $10,000 video to happen in front of their eyes.  However, I never realized just how completely eggs could escape the carton and slide down, all of them broken, down the hair, face and uniform of a cashier.  I don't know how many seconds elapsed between the time the eggs broke, the two of us staring at each other in shock and the time the crowd gathered.  I remember praying that no one I knew was in the store that morning, but I know my son was absolutely THRILLED with what he had done.  I think if he knew about knee slapping during extreme bouts of laughter, he would have done that too. 

I was lucky that day, believe it or not.  The cashier had three boys and was a well seasoned mother.  She was visibly upset, but not the "just kicked hornet's nest" mad I predicted.  Another cashier came with a roll of paper towels and thankfully, she had on a vest and sweater, which helped somewhat.  The manager wasn't as nice, but he tried to somehow remain composed, get my items bagged and took my payment.  I wound up returning to the store alone soon after to speak with the manager and I made amends with the cashier.  She no longer works for the store, but the times I actually showed my face there after, I was alone and we actually wound up having an inside joke, where she would ask me if I were alone and if I had any eggs in my cart.  It's rare though, to find such people in this world, when there are so many judgmental and nosy people.  However, I can smile now, remember her compassion and understanding.  I would never have expected it to turn out that way, but I don't feel so much like I have egg on MY face anymore.