I need something to blame. My brain, well, it’s not functioning properly. Lack of sleep? Eh, that’s not new. Adult beverages? No. I survived college with brain cells intact so that ain’t it. I’m thinking this is just my brain…on summer?

I’m not sure if it’s the lack of routine that comes with summer, but ever since school got out I’m being kind of…a dummy? It’s gotta be too many unstructured days making me forget bills, pantry staples that need replacing, and other mundane tasks that seem to get taken care of seamlessly during the year. The good news is I haven’t lost any of my kids (Or my sanity–yet) when we’re out and about and so barring that, nothing I’ve done or not done really matters at the end of the day. BUT! When I talk to my friends who do things like….run businesses AND households simultaneously, it’s enough to crush a muffin top’s psyche! I need a consult with the tin man, stat.

It always starts out innocently enough. Yesterday, I had to run a few errands with the three gremlins in tow. Trying to run into TJMaxx to grab a small purse with three boys might be a fool’s errand, but I went for it anyway. The lure of the purse beckoned me, even as my brain got all shouty inside, “Look awaaaaay! How badly do you REALLY need this?”

Exactly. So! Soon, we were inside mama’s playland, 3 year old parading around balancing six different purses, 5 year old knocking down four pairs of sunglasses while simultaneously picking out ginormous, floppy hats for me, and 7 year old enjoying his fill of making funny faces in the mirror (he lost two teeth this week and is really having a fun time with his changing smile—but if he keeps this up Imma have to puree all his food AND take out a tooth fairy bank loan!). After everyone had their fun at the expense of the lovely TJMaxx merchandise, we made our way to the registers.

Oh TJMaxx, I know just what you and your sly marketing people are doing, forcing us to snake past the myriad of impulse purchases in the new feeder line to the registers. Soaps and cute gift bags and cushy socks, oh my! I could resist the pretty soaps and explain away the squeaky dog toys to 3 year old, I really could, but just as I thought we were in the clear, on the last shelf–right at the critical 3 foot eye level— the Nerf guns? Last straw! Soon I had a three year old convulsing on the not that clean floor. (Ok, it was probably cleaner than my floors. Your point?)

“IWANNNNNNNERFGUNNNNNN! I WANNNNNNERFGUNNNNNN! I WANNNNNNNNERFGUNNNNNN!”

Really TJMaxx? Really? You’re on my shit list. Top. In bold. And italics for good measure. If you think you had me at a $16.99 faux croc black clutch, you be sorely mistaken! (Hangs head—I still bought it.)

I would say you had to be there, but you probably heard him, his cries and stomps and screams reverberating around planet earth…and then back again. I mean, when the other shorties start covering their ears, you know it ain’t good. I did my best to stand tall and walk calmly to the register and by ignoring him, he eventually understood it was game over. Bless the kind cashier’s heart–she kept grinning and gave me the sister soldier head nod, saying, “I have three grown boys. I know. I’m not laughing at you–this just brings me back and I totally get it.”

Why does the underpaid, overworked cashier get it and not you mean corporate suits, TJ Maxx! You’re all up in your climate controlled offices plotting how to sell me more $hit and the poor cashiers and moms are left holding the bag at the checkout. Not coo!

Rant aside, I know these crap-tastrophes happen to all of us–and they always seem to get us when we’re doing that one quick errand. But isn’t it so nice when you’re down and out to get the person who gives you the look, the smile, the few sentences that say, “I totally get it—no big?” instead of the “other” looks—from the holier than thou-ers, the crabby abbys who apparently live charmed lives in glass houses where clean clothes are folded and put away right out of the dryer instead of lying in a wrinkled heap while you burn the dinner!

So for that, I am thankful. And 3 year old, as he always does with his impish grin and squishy hugs and doe eyes, redeemed himself shortly after. I was cruising out of the parking lot after a spin through Tarjay (imagine that!) and he starts squawking from the back, “Mooommm! The bears!” I didn’t think much of it and he persisted, “Mooom! The bears! You forgot the bears!” I said, “Bears? What bears? Huh?” And then I asked his brothers, “Wait, does he mean beers?” And it clicked. I drove back to the shopping cart I’d used, and sure enough, the 12 pack of Diet Cokes were still underneath!

Credit: SOMEECARDS

I have NO idea why 3 year old would assume all cans have beer in them!  I was really proud of what a little sharpie he was to notice I’d forgotten my beloved Diet Cokes. But the fact that my 3 year old has a better attention to detail is not lost on me. This morning I was driving the kids to the playground and there was a motorcycle policeman behind me. All I’m thinking is, “I’m not speeding and my tail light is fixed! I am soooo not getting pulled over like last month!” Sure enough, after trailing me for like two miles, he pulls me over.

OH.MY.GOD.

5 year old starts squealing, “Mama’s getting pulled over A-GAIN!”

So the officer comes to the window and asks me for my license and reg and I grab the reg out of the box, look at it, look at him, look at it and go, “OMG. It’s August, isn’t it?”

“Yup!”

So, Smarty McForgettypants had 31 days in July to renew her reg and totally spaced on getting it done. (If you must know I was clearly too busy at TJMaxx!)

After the grandma of one of 5 year old’s friends drove by (Hi!) and I sat wondering how much a ticket might be, the kindly cop gave me a break and I told him I’d go take care of it right away—which I did, before I could forget. Again.

Credit: SOMEECARDS

And when I drove away, 5 year old exclaimed with the authority of a passenger who has, in his words, “Been pulled over two times by the police”……”I knew you were going to get pulled over when I saw that policeman. You were driving WAY too fast!”

I’ll totally cop to a summer bout of muffintopforgetfuldumbassitis, but driving too fast with kids in the car, um no!