"Usually, I buy Lego Waffles."
It was raining. Softly at first, but by the time we got to the minivan, it had started pelting down on us. I shivered, wiping my bangs from my face, and pulled tighter on the denim jacket. The shopping was done. The ovservation was done.
Mom and I were unloading bags from the carts and into the car. Dylan was complaining that he was too tired to do anything (though he was made to help stuff sacks into the trunk) , Anna was humming, and Aaron was jumping around in the backseat.
And, crash. A bag full of cereal fell to the ground. I started to come forward.
"We can't put anything else in." I said, casually, waiting for mom to move so that I could pick up what had fallen over. Mom grabbed several sacks, suddenly tossing them around her, and glared venomously in my own direction.
"WHY THE HELL AREN'T YOU PICKING THAT UP?!"
"I was," I said, coolly, bending down to pick up the sack.
"NO. LOOK AT ME."
So I did.
"I need HELP, GODDAMNIT!" She was literally yelling at the top of her lungs now. I cringed. My siblings stared. I was sure other people were staring as well. I knew for a fact that dozens of people heard her.
"WHY CAN'T YOU HELP?! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO FUCKING ARGUE WITH ME?!"
I frown. "I was going to get it."
"WELL YOU DIDN'T. DO IT."
"Why didn't you let me do it...?" Dylan asked timidly. He'd just argued with her a second about loading the sacks.
"SHUT UP!"
I set the bags back in the trunk, shifting the contents so that it would fit. Angrily, I took the empty shopping cart and started to push it away.
Don't quote me on that. There was more swearing, and much, MUCH more yelling. And apparently I'm an idiot for not just shoving the cart up onto an island and leaving it.
Mom and I were unloading bags from the carts and into the car. Dylan was complaining that he was too tired to do anything (though he was made to help stuff sacks into the trunk) , Anna was humming, and Aaron was jumping around in the backseat.
And, crash. A bag full of cereal fell to the ground. I started to come forward.
"We can't put anything else in." I said, casually, waiting for mom to move so that I could pick up what had fallen over. Mom grabbed several sacks, suddenly tossing them around her, and glared venomously in my own direction.
"WHY THE HELL AREN'T YOU PICKING THAT UP?!"
"I was," I said, coolly, bending down to pick up the sack.
"NO. LOOK AT ME."
So I did.
"I need HELP, GODDAMNIT!" She was literally yelling at the top of her lungs now. I cringed. My siblings stared. I was sure other people were staring as well. I knew for a fact that dozens of people heard her.
"WHY CAN'T YOU HELP?! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO FUCKING ARGUE WITH ME?!"
I frown. "I was going to get it."
"WELL YOU DIDN'T. DO IT."
"Why didn't you let me do it...?" Dylan asked timidly. He'd just argued with her a second about loading the sacks.
"SHUT UP!"
I set the bags back in the trunk, shifting the contents so that it would fit. Angrily, I took the empty shopping cart and started to push it away.
Don't quote me on that. There was more swearing, and much, MUCH more yelling. And apparently I'm an idiot for not just shoving the cart up onto an island and leaving it.