Mother, may I?

Picture this.  It's Saturday afternoon before a Husker game, I'm in the grocery store with my 6-year old and 4-year old munchkins (which was a moronic decision, I know).

Our cupboards have been bare for a few days, so our list is long and my attempt at using coupons is still a work in progress...so, I'm fumbling a bit, no pun intended.

And then, all of a sudden, the devil invades my kiddos and the consummate, "Mother, may I?" comes out at every turn.  First it starts with normal things like, coconut, mango, apple juice, crostini...and then, it turns into shit food...red, marshmallow, Husker popcorn balls....multi-colored string cheese (who on God's green earth thought that was cool?) and pretty soon...we're in an all-out negotiation battle field. 

"Come on, Mama, it's Claire's birthday soon...let's get this pink icing."  "How about this 'Explosion Cheddar Cheese Sodium Laden Macaroni?"  "You LOVE coffee...what about this Caramel, Chocolate, Vanilla Nut Swirl blend?" 

I began with, "Not today."  Moved to, "No thank you."  Transitioned with, "Absolutely not."  And somewhere near the dairy section screamed, "The next child who asks me for another thing will get thrown into this cart with the groceries."  To which Sam replied, "Sweet!" 

Holy Mary, Mother of God.  I was about to beat them with my bare hands when a sweet man turned to me and said, "You're doing a great job...cut her a break, kids."  That's right, cut me some slack....or no food for you...or maybe, I'll make you eat that nasty marshmallow thing.