Friday, January 31, 2014
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Aisle 9
Today I was standing in Aisle 9 in the grocery store. Ok, I don't really know what aisle number it was, I didn't pay attention. But I was standing in an aisle in the grocery story and suddenly, for just a moment, I was overwhelmed with emotion.
What on Earth could have been so emotional in a grocery store aisle, you ask? Was I reading sweet, gooey greeting cards?
You may become even more confused when I tell you that I was standing in the deodorant aisle. That's right, somewhere between the Secret and the Ban, and the Old Spice, I felt a huge lump form in my throat and my eyes got a little misty.
You see, I had added something new to my grocery list today. Deodorant for my 8 year old son.
Say what?
That's right, today I was passing Evan in the hall following a basketball game and holy cow! Right there in the hallway was the stench of a grown man coming from a little boy's body. Ok, ok, he's not so little anymore. But, I knew right then and there that I needed to add deodorant to my list. Didn't think another thing about it.
Went to the store, walked down the aisle and began looking for the right deodorant. Something for sensitive skin, since it was new to him. Nothing with too much odor. No Axe, please. Not quite ready to attract the ladies, just yet. And right then and there while I searched and sniffed, and tried to decide, it hit me.
I was buying deodorant for my son. I was buying deodorant for my boy. I was buying deodorant for my baby boy. I was buying deodorant for my baby.
And for just a moment I stood there and let that sink in. I recalled his soft, sweet, smelling baby head. I thought about his soft, white, toddler hair and the smell of the top of his head. I thought about the smell of baby sunscreen on his warm skin in summer. I thought about his precious little smile and his chubby little cheeks, and his cute little hands, and his tiny little feet. And the lump grew bigger and my eyes got even mistier.
And then I realized, I'm about to cry right here in the deodorant aisle. I looked around hastily to see who might be watching (no one was there, thank goodness). And then I swallowed the lump. I picked a non-scented deodorant for sensitive skin. I tossed it in my buggy and I pushed away the memories as I pushed my buggy out of that aisle. I switched from the smell of my baby and focused on that stench I'd smelled in the hallway today coming from my baby who is quickly becoming as tall as I am and I finished my grocery shopping.
We are moving fast around here these days. Too fast in a lot of ways. But, you can't stop time and there were groceries to buy that day and there was a smelly 8 year old boy who needed that deodorant. And so, I moved on, and saved myself the embarrassment of a full-out sob-fest in the deodorant aisle.
And, now the real work begins.... Trying to convince him to actually wear it. Or wash. With actual soap.
8 year old boys, sigh.
What on Earth could have been so emotional in a grocery store aisle, you ask? Was I reading sweet, gooey greeting cards?
You may become even more confused when I tell you that I was standing in the deodorant aisle. That's right, somewhere between the Secret and the Ban, and the Old Spice, I felt a huge lump form in my throat and my eyes got a little misty.
You see, I had added something new to my grocery list today. Deodorant for my 8 year old son.
Say what?
That's right, today I was passing Evan in the hall following a basketball game and holy cow! Right there in the hallway was the stench of a grown man coming from a little boy's body. Ok, ok, he's not so little anymore. But, I knew right then and there that I needed to add deodorant to my list. Didn't think another thing about it.
Went to the store, walked down the aisle and began looking for the right deodorant. Something for sensitive skin, since it was new to him. Nothing with too much odor. No Axe, please. Not quite ready to attract the ladies, just yet. And right then and there while I searched and sniffed, and tried to decide, it hit me.
I was buying deodorant for my son. I was buying deodorant for my boy. I was buying deodorant for my baby boy. I was buying deodorant for my baby.
And for just a moment I stood there and let that sink in. I recalled his soft, sweet, smelling baby head. I thought about his soft, white, toddler hair and the smell of the top of his head. I thought about the smell of baby sunscreen on his warm skin in summer. I thought about his precious little smile and his chubby little cheeks, and his cute little hands, and his tiny little feet. And the lump grew bigger and my eyes got even mistier.
And then I realized, I'm about to cry right here in the deodorant aisle. I looked around hastily to see who might be watching (no one was there, thank goodness). And then I swallowed the lump. I picked a non-scented deodorant for sensitive skin. I tossed it in my buggy and I pushed away the memories as I pushed my buggy out of that aisle. I switched from the smell of my baby and focused on that stench I'd smelled in the hallway today coming from my baby who is quickly becoming as tall as I am and I finished my grocery shopping.
We are moving fast around here these days. Too fast in a lot of ways. But, you can't stop time and there were groceries to buy that day and there was a smelly 8 year old boy who needed that deodorant. And so, I moved on, and saved myself the embarrassment of a full-out sob-fest in the deodorant aisle.
And, now the real work begins.... Trying to convince him to actually wear it. Or wash. With actual soap.
8 year old boys, sigh.
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