I know I talk a lot about Truman, but he is so damn funny I can’t help myself. I adore my Big Red boy, my beautiful baby Grant but he’s just cute and sweet right now, he’s not funny yet. I’m a sucker for a funny guy, so Truman gets the majority of my blog posts for now.
Last night I took Truman grocery shopping with me and left Grant at home with Daddy and the cable guy. (The cable guy was fixing our ridiculously expensive cable that disappoints us on a daily basis, he doesn’t live with us or anything.) We went to Sprouts first because on Wednesdays they honor all of the sales from the previous week and the sales for the current week. Double Ad Wednesday is my favorite day. (I’m lame.) As soon as we left the driveway I was regretting bringing Truman Guy with me. He was screaming for stratchers and water, saying he wanted to “Go! MaaaMaaaaa! Gooooooo!” and shouting NO! in the brattiest tone imaginable at everything I said. I don’t spank my kids, but I kind of wanted to start by the time we got to the store.
I put him in the cart and immediately headed to grab produce. Mike wanted Cuties (those little tangerines) instead of the organic oranges I usually buy. Since they aren’t on the Dirty Dozen list, I’m a little more willing to go conventional for citrus fruits, so I grabbed a bag of Cuties and threw them in the front of the cart. Truman likes to hold the groceries and then put them in the back himself. We selected “bock-a-boy” and “ah-pples” “nanas” and a few other things.
He was still yelling at me for snacks, so I darted over to the cereal aisle. I opened the Cascadian Farms O’s and let him eat them directly out of the box. (I have officially stopped caring about what others think of me.) I was right next to the vitamins so I took the opportunity to find good whole-food vitamins for all of us. It was during my bent over, furrowed brow searching for just the right kind of supplements, that it dawned on me how quiet Truman was being. Knowing that silence is NOT golden when you’re talking two year olds, I jerked myself upright and confirmed my suspicion. He was chewing a large hunk of Cutie, successfully bitten and pulled through the mesh bag, peel and all.
“Open, Truman. Let me make sure you don’t have any of the bag!”
Head shaking and frantic chewing.
“Open! Let me look!” I attempted to pull down his chin.
He opens his mouth and points inside. Sigh.
I checked the bag and it was in tact. Hopefully orange peels are cool to eat, and I am choosing to not think about the pesticide residue. We continued on. He waved at people and said Hi and pointed at a million products while asking, “Wha dis?” and “Wha dat?”
We got to the meat department and he pointed at a woman selecting chicken, “Dat?”
“That’s a nice lady.” I answered. He began pulling imaginary chicken from the air, examining it, and putting it back on imaginary shelves; slowly moving his shoulders around and leaning forward and back. He was copying her movements and mimicking her facial expressions. I was in awe. She looked up and caught him, started laughing and I joined in in disbelief. Truman squealed with delight and proclaimed himself, “Fun-ny!”
He danced to the music playing through out the store, liking the places where it was loud and asking, “Go-Way?” with a pained expression in aisles where it was quieter. I reassured him that we would hear it better again in a few minutes. Moving into another aisle, he pointed at the cylindrical speakers hanging from the ceiling and said, “In dare! In dare!” I never realized those were speakers until he pointed them out.
I was getting the on-sale pasta sauce from an end cap when Truman said, “Teeth!” I looked at him and he was pointing somewhere with one hand and pointing at his teeth with the other. I rotated to follow his extended pointing arm and saw a display of dog bones. “Teeth!” He repeated. I got a weird shiver down my spine as I read Indigo Fresh Floss Bones on the blue bag. How he associated teeth to those bones instead of “dog” or “blue” I’m not sure. We never give McGillicutty dog bones, and he doesn’t go anywhere else where he would see dog bones, or another dog for that matter. He was still emphatically pointing at his teeth so I told him he was right and they clean the doggy’s teeth. “Cutty? Cutty?”
“Not today Truman, maybe another time.” We headed toward check-out and I said, “OK, what else do we need?”
His reply was firm.
By the time we got home last night, I was so happy that I’d brought him with me – attitude and all. He never ceases to amaze me with his knowledge, his interpretation of the world around him and his sense of humor. I’m not saying that my boy is the smartest or the funniest kid ever… but he has to be pretty close to the top of the list. Sometimes, he makes me wonder just how many times he’s been here before.