Why We Can't Eat At McDonalds

Trust me. You don't want to find this in your cart.

            After 40-plus years, my mother recently revealed that my grandmother was a pioneer in the kid-harnessing industry. It seems inspiration hit during one trying shopping trip at the old Woolworth’s store where my mother “played tag” by circling a table just out of grandma’s reach. Once mom was caught, grandma marched back to the pet department and bought a dog harness and leash to keep mother from running off again. It got to be such a habit when they were going out that mom would always put the harness on, much like a dog will gladly go get its leash when it’s time to go for a walk.

            While I don’t necessarily agree with the idea of strapping a leash onto your kid, I can certainly understand the reason behind it. Here’s how our own shopping trips usually go:

            “Chris put that down. Chris hold my hand. Chris stay where I can see you. Chris we don’t need a chainsaw. Chris let’s go. Chris you can’t have a guinea pig. Chris use your inside voice. Chris don’t hit that little old lady with the cart. Chris if you want that you should put it on your list to Santa. Chris we don’t say grown up words like that! Chris stay with me.”

            You get the picture. Instead of perusing my coupons I spend the entire time trying not to pull out my hair.

I want this. And this. And this. And this.

            It was cute when she was really little. My aunt loves the story where Chris was riding in the cart and filled it up by grabbing things right and left off the shelves. When I asked what she was doing her reply was matter of fact: “It’s OK mommy. It’s on sale.”

            It was easy back then to put everything back and appease her with a baggie of Raisinettes (there are healthy raisins under that chocolate – see I AM a good parent!). Once she got so big I couldn’t carry her anymore and she started running away from me much like my mother did back in the 50s, I seriously considered a trip to the pet store.

            One memorable trip to Marshalls left me red-faced and apologizing to random strangers on the way out the door. Strolling through the after-Christmas aisle Chris spotted a lone package of Christmas cookies that she decided she must have. Yes, she was the demon screaming “I want the cookies” and hitting and kicking me as I bypassed a line of no less than 100 post-Christmas sale shoppers.

            When you see the Willy Wonka character Veruca Salt sing her little ditty, “If I don’t get the things I am after, I’m going to SCREAM!” you have the perfect vision of Chris’ Marshalls meltdown.

            I’m fairly certain that our photo is posted in that store with the words, “Do not admit. Ever. Even if her mother wins the lottery and can buy out the entire store.”

The same goes for one McDonald’s play area where I nearly became stuck like a sausage in the tunnel while trying to drag Chris out a full hour after I started the warnings that it was time to go home. But it’s probably a good excuse when I remind her we’re not allowed to eat that food because they told us never to come back. It’s not a huge stretch because I sprinted out the door with her thrown like a sack of potatoes over my shoulder before the manager could give us the sad news.

If I don't get the candy I will scream!

            One time at Kohl’s we narrowly missed a visit with Child Protective Services. See, as we were walking in the door I explained to Chris that she would be required to ride in the cart THE ENTIRE TIME. Immediately the screaming began, so I picked her up, turned around and headed back to the car. I put her back in her car seat while dodging fists and toddler sneakers and explaining in an increasingly louder voice that we would shop when she calmed down.

As I took a deep breath and walked around the car, I noticed a couple of women who had stopped to stare at me, obviously poised to dial 911. I glared back and said, “What? You want to shop in there with her screaming like that?”

They never did call the authorities. I think they realized it wasn’t an abduction or child beating they were witnessing, but that I was instead saving my fellow shoppers from pierced eardrums.

            I wish I could say that since Chris is now 6 ½ that she’s grown into an awesome shopper. But it’s simply not true. No, she doesn’t throw herself on the floor in a temper tantrum anymore, but she does do the whiny, “Please, please, please, please, please, (to infinity)” thing while following me around until I want to blow like Mt. Vesuvius.

            I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed. It happens to us all. But I do miss those chicken nugget Happy Meals.

Just add candy and a stuffed toy and we can shop. For now.