Confession

So today I was thinking, after surfing random blogs.  And I realized that in the very unlikely event that I ever gave birth to twins, I would totally dress them in matching outfits.  I mean, is there anything more adorable?  On the contrary, when I see 2 sisters or brothers who are NOT twins wearing matching outfits, I am nauseous.  If you ain't twins, you shouldn't match. 

Anyway, so I picked up Monk after writing my article.  Then we high-tailed it to the grocery store.  I realized beforehand that it would be SO much easier to just pick her up afterwards and- wtf- I'm paying this place good money, right?  But, alas, I thought, "If my mom could do it with three, g-ddamnit, I can do it with one!"   And I did.  (Note: J, Monkey and I usually go together on the weekends) But afterwards, I was f*cking beat.  She was a perfect angel and had the best time ever, pointing at stuff, shooting me a huge smile, holding onto the rawhide for the doggies like such a big girl- never letting it fall.  But I did the self checkout and bought lots of heavy stuff.  And then I pushed her and groceries through the cold-a$$ weather to the car, buckled her in, loaded the groceries in the trunk, put cart away, drove home, unbuckled Monkey, and took multiple trips inside with a 20 lb baby on my hip. 

Dude. 

I know this was a long post about grocery shopping (yawn), but I just want to give my mother (who doesn't know this blog exists) a shout out who ONLY grocery shopped with children and no adult assistance.