Grace-Or Lack Thereof--in the Grocery Store

 Even before Covid world, I stopped going into the grocery store very often. It just was too darn easy to order my groceries, pull up, and have them loaded right into my trunk. I told myself this was saving money as I wasn't impulse buying, and perhaps that is true. It also, however, disconnected me from grocery store reality.

Several weeks ago I had to go into the store as both pick-up and delivery options weren't available until the next day, and I was in need of a few essentials. It was a cold rainy day late in the afternoon. I pulled up, put on my mask, and ran from the parking lot into the store. Immediately I was annoyed at the many people not wearing masks. Just being honest here...

There was a time several years ago when running into the store would take little time as I knew where everything was. But alas, over the years, things get moved around, and what I thought would be a quick trip in was already beginning to take more time. Music was playing overhead sometimes interrupted by "special announcements," and I could hear several children either whining, talking very loudly, or flat out having screaming tantrums. I huffed and puffed wishing I had my AirPods. I would like to claim I was in sensory overload, but really I was just being a selfish jerk.

I filled my cart with what I needed and headed to check out. There was only one cashier and four self-checkouts open. And there were long lines. I waited in the self-checkout line which really isn't a line but rather a gaggle of people all vying for the next open register. A young woman with three screaming children pulled her cart into the milieu. One child was sitting in the cart with snot running out of his nose and down his face. One child was swinging around the cart knocking into other customers, and the third was shrilling proclaiming every five seconds how hungry she was. The woman was on her cell phone it sounded like making some sort of appointment. Needless to say, she was getting nasty looks from other customers. Out of sheer desperation or complete resignation, she grabbed three bags of m&m's off the shelf and handed them out. The volume immediately lowered. (I was, I must admit, quite grossed out by the now snotty m&m snack.) With the lowered volume, I could hear several other customers whispering about "parenting" and "giving in." I'm sure the young woman heard it as well.

Over the next several days, I couldn't stop thinking about that woman. I had been that woman, sort of. At first, I thought these things

• What was she doing taking her children to the grocery store at the arsenic hour? (That's what I call the hours betweeen 4:30pm and bedtime--you either want to take it or give it.)
• Why was she trying to make an appointment while shopping and juggling three kids?
• Why didn't she just leave the cart and try again another day? (I distinctly remember walking out of the grocery store in Athens with four screaming children as I apologized to the clerk who would have to reshelve the entire cartful of groceries.)

I kept thinking and realized how incredibly judgemental and self-righteous, not to mention privileged my thoughts were. I didn't have to take my children to the grocery store during those hours because I didn't work outside of the home. I could go during their "best behaved" hours or while they were in pre-school/school. Maybe this woman goes to work early and rushes to pick up kids before the dreaded late-fee pick-up every day. I had all day to make phone calls and appointments--but let's be honest, I have also been on the phone while shopping...  Maybe she was trying to make a doctor's appointment to get that runny nose treated. I think the thought that gets to me the most is, I could leave that grocery cart full of groceries and just go home because I had food already there. Maybe she didn't.

I don't know this woman's story because I didn't bother to stop and help. I didn't let her move in front of me. I didn't help unload her cart. And I didn't wipe the little boy's nose. Maybe she is just a give-in to every whim parent who doesn't manage her time well, or maybe she's just trying to do the best she can and could have used a smile, a helping hand, and a little compassion.