No, really. Not like crazed-mad. But like just forgetting things.
On the way home from school on Friday, I stopped by the store and got groceries.
Saturday morning when the kids were lamenting over someone finishing the box of cereal (even though we have like 2 dozen more of that kind in the garage), I was thinking to myself, Why don't they just go get the new cereal I got yesterday? That might be more enticing.
Then like a rock in the bottom of my stomach, I remembered I didn't bring in the groceries.
I ran out to the van. And with my heart racing, I stood for a moment and then carefully opened the van doors. There, in the back of the van, in the warming morning hours, 3 gallons of milk stared at me. And one pound of cheese. And one dozen eggs. And lots of other things that actually did survive the last 17 hours.
ugh. TRIPLE ugh. How could I forget 3 gallons of milk? What did this mean for me? This meant I would have to load up my crowd-drawing crew and go to the commissary and by milk so we wouldn't run out over the weekend.
Well, we enjoyed a Saturday morning of trying to find a good yard sale and then playing at the duck pond park. On the way home, we stopped at the commissary.
I instructed Pookie and Bun to buy three gallons of 2% milk and one gallon of whole milk. I taught them how to tell which kind is 2% and reminded them to look for the cheapest kind by comparing the prices.
I also asked them what they would do when they came across the magazines. They quickly replied, "Look away! Don't read them! Don't even look!"
I smiled to myself as they went into the commissary thinking how well this arrangement works. They learn to be safe with the buddy system. They learn that they CAN look at the magazines, but choose not to. They learn how to discern what milk to buy, what line to go in, how to exchange money with the cashier, and how to prove to the manager they are old enough to be there.
*Little pat on the back for a nice weekend lesson.*
When we came home I made sure to bring the milk in and set it on the chest freezer. I was going to move the pan of cream cheese brownies and arrange these four gallons of milk with the nearest date first. I felt relieved and prepared to be putting four gallons of milk in the garage fridge.
I opened the refrigerator door. There, on the bottom shelf of the fridge, sat 5 gallons of milk staring at me. And in the door was 2 quarts more.
Now I have 9 1/2 gallons of milk.