Another Day at the Local Gocery

Rock, smooth, fun, unique, emotional, groovy, woman’s ecoustics, drum and bass

Warm air puffed against our cheeks as we walked through the sliding glass doors of our local grocery store. It was a usual day. Shoppers hustled and bustled about the aisles, selecting the necessities of life. An elderly woman stood in produce. She gently squeezed plump, ripe oranges in her leathery, arthritic hands. I watched momentarily, as she gently placed the juiciest ones in a plastic bag. Two men visited energetically by the Deli, and a brown-haired woman strode past. I felt the woosh of air as she went by. The sight overwhelmed me, but public places usually did. 
We originally moved in like one large creature. Everyone was connected to me or to the cart. 
Emma-baby sat shotgun. Her chubby cheeks vibrated, and her soft, shiny brown hair shone in the fluorescent lights. One of her squishy hands was gripped tightly around mine. 
My other hand was intertwined with the sticky fingers of my mischievous toddler, Hunter. His small blond head bounced up and down beside my hip as he merrily skipped along. He held on tightly. His honey brown eyes were bright with energy. His grubby little face seemed to be looking everywhere. It was like he was excitedly looking for a new game. 
Grace, calm and steady, held firmly to the cart. She was only six years old, but her spirit felt much older. It was like she was created for another time. She held her head high when she walked, and she looked straight ahead; never deviating. I quickly glanced down at her. Her hair was like spun gold. It swished gently back and forth with every step. 
Then there was Jacob; he was the oldest. He held loosely to the handle with damp, infirm fingers. He lolloped along as we went: hop-step, hop-step. His mahogany hair was long and unkept and it curled around his ears. It contrasted against his pale white skin. His face looked eager and excited. His eyes seemed to dance under his heavy-set eyebrows. The black sweatpants he wore were two sizes too small, and his wrinkled, red shirt was two sizes too big. This did not bother him: he was happy that he dressed himself. He, like Hunter, was full of energy. He giggled and shrieked with happiness. This boy had something up his sleeve. 
A quick shop would not be so bad if I could leave Jacob at home, but finding a sitter was impossible. “In and out,” I whispered under my breath. I quickened my stride, but it was hard to do. My children’s legs could not walk as fast as mine did. Jacob, though, had no problem picking up speed. He let go of the cart and galloped ahead. I kept him in my laser focus as he rushed excitedly towards the crowd. 
People stopped and stared distastefully as he hop-stepped around them. Shiny, wet drool oozed down his chin, and yellow teeth peaked out from behind his upturned lips. A man jerked away. Jacob reached his clammy, underdeveloped hand towards the man to balance himself. He was not good on his feet. Jacob stumbled momentarily and shrieked with glee as he continued onward. The man did not look happy. 
“Sorry,” I said. My chest tightened. All I wanted to do today was get groceries! This was not going to be easy. I tried to grab whatever I could from off the shelves. I snatched up a box of Ritz Handi-Snacks for my kid’s lunches. I hoped that they were on sale. There was no time to check price tags today. I could feel my palms sweating against the handle of my shopping cart. 
Jacob disappeared. I picked up Hunter. His little legs wriggled. “Ger-off me” he said, and I sat him next to the baby. I quickened my stride, and I took off after Jacob with Grace in tow. My heart pounded in my ears. Where did he go?

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Warm air puffed against our cheeks as we walked through the sliding glass doors of our local grocery store. It was a usual day. Shoppers hustled and bustled about the aisles, selecting the necessities of life. An elderly woman stood in produce. She gently squeezed plump, ripe oranges in her leathery, arthritic hands. I watched momentarily, as she gently placed the juiciest ones in a plastic bag. Two men visited energetically by the Deli, and a brown-haired woman strode past. I felt the woosh of air as she went by. The sight overwhelmed me, but public places usually did. We originally moved in like one large creature. Everyone was connected to me or to the cart. Emma-baby sat shotgun. Her chubby cheeks vibrated, and her soft, shiny brown hair shone in the fluorescent lights. One of her squishy hands was gripped tightly around mine. My other hand was intertwined with the sticky fingers of my mischievous toddler, Hunter. His small blond head bounced up and down beside my hip as he merrily skipped along. He held on tightly. His honey brown eyes were bright with energy. His grubby little face seemed to be looking everywhere. It was like he was excitedly looking for a new game. Grace, calm and steady, held firmly to the cart. She was only six years old, but her spirit felt much older. It was like she was created for another time. She held her head high when she walked, and she looked straight ahead; never deviating. I quickly glanced down at her. Her hair was like spun gold. It swished gently back and forth with every step. Then there was Jacob; he was the oldest. He held loosely to the handle with damp, infirm fingers. He lolloped along as we went: hop-step, hop-step. His mahogany hair was long and unkept and it curled around his ears. It contrasted against his pale white skin. His face looked eager and excited. His eyes seemed to dance under his heavy-set eyebrows. The black sweatpants he wore were two sizes too small, and his wrinkled, red shirt was two sizes too big. This did not bother him: he was happy that he dressed himself. He, like Hunter, was full of energy. He giggled and shrieked with happiness. This boy had something up his sleeve. A quick shop would not be so bad if I could leave Jacob at home, but finding a sitter was impossible. “In and out,” I whispered under my breath. I quickened my stride, but it was hard to do. My children’s legs could not walk as fast as mine did. Jacob, though, had no problem picking up speed. He let go of the cart and galloped ahead. I kept him in my laser focus as he rushed excitedly towards the crowd. People stopped and stared distastefully as he hop-stepped around them. Shiny, wet drool oozed down his chin, and yellow teeth peaked out from behind his upturned lips. A man jerked away. Jacob reached his clammy, underdeveloped hand towards the man to balance himself. He was not good on his feet. Jacob stumbled momentarily and shrieked with glee as he continued onward. The man did not look happy. “Sorry,” I said. My chest tightened. All I wanted to do today was get groceries! This was not going to be easy. I tried to grab whatever I could from off the shelves. I snatched up a box of Ritz Handi-Snacks for my kid’s lunches. I hoped that they were on sale. There was no time to check price tags today. I could feel my palms sweating against the handle of my shopping cart. Jacob disappeared. I picked up Hunter. His little legs wriggled. “Ger-off me” he said, and I sat him next to the baby. I quickened my stride, and I took off after Jacob with Grace in tow. My heart pounded in my ears. Where did he go?

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