Today I went to our local supermarket by myself.

It was a very Twilight Zone kind of experience. The Wictor loves the supermarket, so I usually have at least one child in tow. Today I left him behind. I was feeling in need of a break.

I was feeling in need of a break, so I went to the supermarket, by myself.

As I arrived, I realized that I had been listening to the kids favorite music CD in the car. The one polluted with Dolly Parton, Belinda Carlisle and Nickelback, which is what passes for kids music around here. Too  late,  “Heaven is a Place on Earth” had already finished and “Borderline” was about to start.

I started to park in a “Customer with Child” space as usual, but realized my mistake and had to reverse out and drive to the next vacant spot at the end of the car park.

I was then required to walk at least 200 feet to get to the door of the store, feeling like there was something missing all the way. I am walking funny, I thought to myself. Did one leg suddenly get shorter than the other? Oh! It is just that there is nothing pulling down my arm. Look Ma! Both hands!

A slight moment of anxiety when I noticed there were none of those wonderful car-carts left. Oh. Yeah. Standard cart.

Hey Mister? Why aren’t you giving me a balloon?

Once in the supermarket I settled in for a standard supermarket run. Except… I took my time. I studied packets. I avoided nothing. I parked up in front of the kiddy vitamins for at least 10 minutes and reveled in the decision. Flintstones or Scooby Doo? Barbie or Cars? Hmmm. I could settle in here. It’s very peaceful. Somebody bring me a seat.

Finally at the checkout, instead of fielding requests for Gummi Bears! M&Ms! Lollipops! I bought two of these:

One for me and one for The Daddy.

Sigh. I really know how to live.