This morning, Kit asked me, “Can we have pizza for dinner tonight?”
I answered carefully, “Pizza’s junk-food, Kit. When do we eat junk food?”
“Only on the weekend,” he said dejectedly.
“Just two more days to go, then!” I said brightly, and offered him a celery stick as he glared at me.
“Come shopping with me, and ride in the trolley,” I offered as a consolation prize.
He cheered up, and we set off to the supermarket.
Kit loves trolleys. Usually, he treats the kid’s seat more like a Director’s Chair, telling me what he would like, and occasionally begging me to put something back (usually something green). He stays in the trolley, as he is so small that he could easily get lost on foot. Actually, I once lost him in the trolley behind a head of cauliflower.
Today, Kit decided it was time to be lost somewhere more interesting than the bottom of a trolley. I don’t know how long he had been gone when I turned to where he had been to ask if he would prefer spinach or lettuce. I was greeted with a strange look from an Elderly Gentleman, apparently convinced that I was addressing a bag of potatoes. Unwilling to disappoint him, I smiled at the potatoes, said, “Spinach it is, then!” and rushed off to find Kit.
I circled the supermarket like a shark, acutely aware of Kit’s potential to be a total embarrassment. I finally located him. He had built a pyramid from various items on top of a shelf. He was perched at the top of it like a Christmas angel on a tree.
“Mum! Look at meeee!” he called, waving with both front paws.
Just as I called, “Kit! Be careful,” he lost his balance, and fell. The pyramid collapsed beneath him, collecting other items as it went like an avalanche. Fortunately, he landed on a packet of incontinence pads. Dodging a tin of sardines, he scurried towards me as the rest of his tower transformed itself into a traffic hazard.
As is always the way when you are trying to avoid someone, they keep appearing, forcing you to jump into rubbish bins, or become very interested in what is behind the nearest hedge. Coincidentally, the Elderly Gentleman had caught up with us, and he was blocked from the aisle by the ruins of Kit’s pyramid. He shook his walking stick at me, and shouted, “Lunatic!”
“Run, Mum, run!” Kit hissed, as I scooped him up.
I’m ashamed to say, I abandoned my trolley, and did as he suggested.
It turns out that this lunatic and her meerkat are having pizza tonight afterall.