finishing touch
“help, please – aisle four…” ANÉL LEWIS explains how painful a quick trip to the grocery
34
November 2013
outstretched. Time for the first trick of the day – I hand out fruit sticks for each child. This buys me enough time to get both children mobile and into the first aisle. Everything is calm until Conor spots the toys. He starts flailing his legs, while simultaneously making the universal gesture for “give it to me” with his hands. I try to ignore him, but he’s starting to look like one of those painted mime artists you see at tourist spots. People start to stare. I take a sharp left into the dairy aisle to get each child a yoghurt. Conor is easily distracted by food, and calm ensues. My saving grace on shopping expeditions are those ladies handing out samples. This usually buys me some extra time to shop as each child munches on a meatball, piece of steamed fish or whatever else is being dished out. But there are none on duty today and I have to rely on my own skills of distraction. With three aisles to go, the wheels start to fall off. Erin gets antsy, and tries to climb
out of the trolley. Conor goes blood red and resumes his very vocal chorus of “no” while I try to manoeuvre him as quickly as possible through the queues so that I can pay and escape. I’ve got no more snacks or distractions to come to my rescue. So, I am forced to break into a shaky rendition of “Annie Apple” in the chips’ aisle. We leave the store, but I have forgotten about the mechanical bus outside. Both children start gesticulating madly. Feeling guilty that my attempts to keep them entertained during this ordeal have been a bit hit-and-miss, I agree to a few minutes in the bus. But it seems my showmanship is still in demand. Erin is petrified of the moving bus, yet she insists that I insert a coin to make the thing shudder and beep. Almost on cue she starts crying, while Conor hides behind the trolley. And me? I’m half way inside in the gyrating bus, singing about a bus conductor and wheels that go round in an
attempt to calm her down. Suddenly that medication-free root canal doesn’t seem so bad. Anél Lewis is a mother of two, who has finally realised that until her children are old enough to drive themselves to the shops, online shopping may be the only way to preserve her sanity and spare other shoppers from further renditions of “The Wheels on the Bus”.
PHOTOGRAPH: STEPHANIE VELDMAN
g
oing shopping with two toddlers is a bit like having a root canal without the happy gas. You’ll probably survive the ordeal, but why put yourself through the pain? Ask any mother who braves a supermarket on a Saturday morning – you dare not venture forth without an arsenal of tricks. It starts pretty much as soon as you walk into the shop. In my case, Erin insists on sitting in a blue trolley. This is fine and dandy if there is one at hand. But what happens if there are four or more trolleys stacked in front of the blue one she has spotted? Yes, that’s right. You find yourself pushing trolleys apart and away in all directions, much to the chagrin of the hapless shoppers behind you. Once Erin is settled, it’s Conor’s turn. He can’t say “blue” yet, but he can shout “no” at the top of his lungs. And if he’s not in the mood to ride in the trolley that morning, he does a wonderful interpretation of someone “planking” with arms and legs
store can be with two small children in tow.
Erin, Anél and Conor
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