Trip to Walmart

Do you have any idea what a trip to Walmart for this family of 5 entails?

We usually try to follow a few set guidelines when we go to the store together.
1. We don't go on an empty stomach. Tonight we ate a yummy meal of lobster and shrimp bisque from Bodean Seafood Market, as well as some of their delicious crab cakes. We just brought them home, heated it up, and had a scrumptious meal right in the comfort of our home.
2. We try to go at a time when the kids are not too tired, so there is no gratuitous whining.

On the way to the store tonight, we played some of our favorite travelling music from the greatest hits collection of Veggie Tales. The Hairbrush Song seemed to get Beau riled up, as he proceeded to yell out the end of every line.

"Oh, where is MY HAIRBRUSH?
Oh, where is MY HAIRBRUSH?
Oh, where, oh where, oh where, oh WHERE!!!!
is MY HAIRBRUSH?"

At which point, Clint looked over at me and said, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
But by this time, we were almost there, so we decided to just go for it.

You know, it seems like we get up the courage to take all 3 kids to the store with us right after we forget about how difficult it was the last time we did it. Usually, I only take one child with me to the grocery store...usually that child is Pot Pie. Most often, we pretend like we're on a show like the Crocodile Hunter, and we "hunt" for our groceries.
"Look! Over there! (really bad Australian accents...Pot Pie's is better than mine.) I have spotted the marshmallows. Sneaking up on the marshmallows so we don't give them a fright. I've got them!" You get the idea.

But not this time. This time I gave each child a task to do while we were in the store.
"Cutie Pie, get me 2 white onions."
"Pot Pie, get me 6 of the biggest potatoes you can find."
"Pumpkin Pie, do not try to go head first out of the cart."
This game worked...in the produce aisle. Once we moved onto dairy...not so much.
By the time we reached the freezer section, Cutie Pie is chasing Pot Pie through the aisles, calling him "POOP!" as Pot Pie stops and does a little booty dance, as if to say, "You can't catch me!" and then he takes off again just before Cutie Pie gets to him.

In the checkout line, the lobster bisque seemed to catch up with my husband, who developed a very bad case of gas. So bad, that I'm certain the checker in the line over had tears in her eyes. Cutie Pie said, very loudly, "What's that smell?"
Pot Pie, sniffing his father's behind, said, "Its Daddy!"
The groaning commenced.
Luckily, our checker finished up quickly and we made it out to the truck. My husband loaded the groceries all by himself, while I corralled the kids in the front. After he finished, he loaded up into the truck, and, as if he were saving it for that moment right after he shut the door, again let out a burst of noxious aroma. We are both so stricken by the horrible smell that we simply take off, attempting to get home as quickly as we can.
Cutie Pie, who doesn't always catch on very quickly, said "What is that smell?"
Pot Pie, again answered, "Its Daddy."
Cutie Pie asked, "Where does it come from?"
To which Pot Pie replied "His butt."
To which my Sweetie Pie replied, "Where do you think it came from?"
Cutie Pie, in a quick moment, replied, "Your face!"
Suddenly, the quiet one, Pumpkin Pie, jumps from the car seat he was not belted into and does Pot Pie's booty dance. We scold him for not speaking up about his seatbelt, as that is a very important job we have given him, but after we get him buckled, we turn around, look at each other, and burst out laughing, because what else can you do when you make such a potentially fatal mistake? That's just the way we deal with things, I guess. The rest of the ride home is filled with the kids singing their very favorite songs, loudly, and with Pot Pie getting scolded for adding in the words "Poop" and "Pee" to the lyrics of the songs.

When we finally make it home, we unload the truck, which only results in Pot Pie doing a face plant into the tailgate once, and after everything is put away, the kiddos go to bed, and my Sweetie Pie and I make a pact, once again, to never, EVER, take all of our kids to the store.