BOYS SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED OUT UNSUPERVISED

Do I really need to explain this?

Really?

It happens in every relationship, I reckon: the wife turns into the husband’s mother.

I really do wonder how Charlie survives on a daily basis without me being there.  He needs constant supervision and non-flammable protective padding. 

I swear to God, I have two children: one’s fifteen and one’s forty-five, and I take comfort in the knowledge that the fifteen year old is not likely to set herself on fire.

And if you’re newly married and thinking ‘That’s soooo not my husband, and it’s sooo not going to happen to us…’ stop kidding yourself! 

It will happen eventually.  Start preparing yourself now.

*sigh*

So, Charlie, Jade and I are in Bendigo on Saturday for a night of family fun and festivities.  We don’t do this very often, cos we’re poor white trash, so when we do, it’s on a budget.  

This particular outing entailed dinner at Grill’d, where we can get $9 movie tickets as part of our ‘meal deal’, and Jade the vego freak can have a decent feed up.  Then we had dessert at Cold Rock Ice Creamery. Charlie had never heard of Cold Rock before *rolls eyes*, and I had to help him choose ice-cream and mix-ups because he was freaking out at the sparkly things everywhere…

Then, we venture off to the movies.

However, because we’re poor white trash, we go to the supermarket for our munchies and drinks, because we cannot justify the ridiculous prices at the cinema candy bar.

Plus, I think the candy bar is a scam.  A brilliant scam.

Somehow, you’re convinced that buying popcorn in bulk is not only a bargain, but a necessity.  Then, you fall prey to the cinema’s cunning pan: butter. 

You see, it’s not butter they put on their popcorn; its liquid fucken salt. 

That popcorn is so yummy that you gorge yourself on it, and end up dehydrating in about two minutes flat because of the butter/salt.  This then necessitates you buying twenty litres of soft drink, which you wouldn’t normally drink, to counteract the effect of the salty popcorn.

Then, as you’re sitting there watching the previews, you’re inundated with images of people having an awesome time eating lollies, popcorn, drinks and ice creams whilst watching the movies, and feel that unless you buy this stuff, you’ll miss out on all of the fun! Oh no!!

So not only do you buy your weight in popcorn and soft drink (to kill the salt), you buy ice cream and lollies so that you can heighten your experience! 

Need I point out that you’re watching an oversized television in a massive lounge room with five hundred other people?

Whatever.

Anyway, not willing to fall into the cunning cinemas popcorn/soft drink trap, The Buttlers, in their infinite wisdom, go to the supermarket to purchase their munchies.

Yep: we’re the dorks you see at the cinemas with their shopping bags of drinks, chips and lollies, which we don’t need, but buy because we don’t want to spoil our cinema going experience.

So after dragging Charlie away from one sparkly place (Cold Rock), we drag him into another; Coles.

Coles in Bendigo is huge.  It’s been renovated and revamped, has a bright sparkly clothing section (which is massive), and as soon as Charlie picks up the little black shopping basket, he’s off in the direction of the clothing.

Why?  Because it’s well lit and looks sparkly.

‘Charlie!’ I called after him.  ‘Where are you going?’

He turns and looks at me, blinks a couple of times, and says ‘I dunno…’

‘Leave the sparkly shit alone, and let’s get what we came for.’ I say as Jade bounces past me and disappears into the clothing racks.

Fuck me… they’re as bad as each other…

So I follow Jade, stroll around the cheap clothing (some of which is quite pretty), and when I finally drag her out of there, I’ve lost Charlie.

For fucks sake…

‘Where’s your fucken father…’ I mutter in annoyance.  I swear I need to strap him into one of those kiddy leashes and clip it to my handbag… ‘Let’s go find the confectionary… he’ll be there…’

Sure enough, there he is standing there staring at the chocolates, with a basket full of coke and sasparilla.

‘Do we really need four bottles of poison, Charlie?’ I ask.  Coke is poison in my mind, and I flat out refuse to buy it.  Charlie likes coke with his scotch, so he buys it himself. 

‘They’re on special…’ he says innocently.

‘Awesome! I’m not buying it, so set the moths free mate.  Open your wallet…’

‘Ok,’ he sighs, looking dejected.

‘Are you getting chocolate or chips?’

‘I dunno…’ he shrugs.

‘Jade and I are getting chips, so we’re going into the next isle, okay?’ he nods. ‘Will you be all right here by yourself, or do you want me to wait with you so you don’t get scared?’ I smile, rubbing his arm for comfort.

‘Fuck off.’ He mutters, picking up a block of chocolate and turning it over in his hands.  Sparkly things….

Jade and I pick out our chips (Coles brand cheezels - $1.26 a packet! FTW!) and return to the confectionary isle, only to find Charlie’s vanished.  Again!

I can’t leave him along for a fucken minute!

‘Whilst I’m here, I’ll grab the banana lollies and a block of white chocolate to make that banana slice your Dad likes,’ I explain, grabbing a bag of bananas. 

‘Are you gonna make that banana slice I like?’ Charlie asks from behind me (creeping Jesus!), succeeding in frightening me so much, I nearly fill my rompers.  I notice a packet of Coles brand cheezels in his basket.

‘What happened to the chocolate you were gonna buy?’

‘These looked better.’ He smiled happily. 

‘Sweet.  Let’s blow this popsicle stand.’ I say, and Jade and I grab a couple of bottles of water as we head to the self-serve registers.

This is where the fun begins.

I start scanning the bottles of poison through, and start stacking the other items in front of them as I go.  The think about these self-serve checkouts, is there’s not quite enough room if you have a few large items, and you can’t remove anything without tripping off the registers.

‘I’ll just move this bag…’ Charlie says, reaching for the coke.

‘Don’t touch it!’ Jade and I cry in unison.  ‘If you move it, it makes the register not happy, and we have to wait for assistance…’ I explain.

‘I’ve done it before, and it’s been okay…’

‘No Dad, you’ve done it before, and it’s not been okay…’ Jade says sternly, but Charlie lifts the bag anyway.

Please wait for assistance… the register says, and Jade and I start telling off Charlie.

‘I told you so!’ Jade barks at him.

‘We’ve been through these things more than you have, Charlie.  WTF?’ I said, and he just smiles and shrugs.

Fucken pain in the arse.  ‘Don’t do it again!’ I barked at him as the Coles staff member comes up.  ‘I’m sorry, but my stupid husband moved the bag.’

‘It’s okay.’ she smiled wanly, possibly thinking you fucken idiot, whilst clearing the register for us.  She had a look that suggested she did this fifty million times a day.  Poor love.

I wondered if she had a husband, too…. and returned to my scanning and packing.

I was quickly running out of room, and he did it again!  ‘Charlie! Leave the fucken bag alone!’ I said, but it was too late.  He lifted it off!  Again!!

‘Which part of leave the fucken bag alone are you struggling with, champ?’ I barked, as he stood there smiling at me.  ‘Seriously?’

‘Go sit over there Dad!’ Jade pointed to the bench seat near the end of the registers.  ‘Go sit over there and wait for us!’

Charlie hung his head and wandered over to the bench seat; banished for his efforts.

‘Let me guess, he moved the bag again?’ the Coles staffer asked, appearing beside me.

‘Yep.’ I sighed.

‘Boys are stupid.’ Jade added.

‘It happens all the time.’ She said, clearing the register. ‘Men and children are the worst at it.  Men try to clear space, and kids pick stuff up and run off with it.’

‘Well, there’s not much difference between a man and a kid, really.’ I offered.

‘Ain’t that the truth?’ She laughed.  ‘I often wonder how my husband gets buy without me around…’

BANG!  I’m not alone.  ‘See Jade?  It’s not just us.’

‘I understand.’ Jade nods knowingly. ‘I understand.  Boys are stupid.’

‘Good girl.  You remember that.’ I said, finishing off the shopping.  ‘Charlie?’ I called over to him. ‘Could you come and carry some of these bags please?’ I asked, and he dragged himself of the bench seat and shuffled toward us.

‘I’m surprised you’ll let me near the shopping.  I might fuck it up.’

‘Hang on…’ I said, rummaging around in my handbag.  ‘I’m sure I’ve got a bit of concrete in here that you can chew on.  It’ll help you harden the fuck up.’ I offered.

‘Go fuck yourself,’ he smiled, picking up the bags.

‘If you can’t carry a couple of bags out to the car without incident, I swear to God, I’m not letting you out of the house again.’

He just smiled and swaggered off toward the car, narrowly avoiding stepping out in front a vehicle.

What hope have I got?

Peace out.