Mater is a Narc...

The Toddler and I had a play date of sorts today with his girlfriend.  I really hope she is his future wife...(The Husband and I first met at this age, so I am hoping this sticks).  She's a sweetie (and will be known as Sweetie from here on out), and I like her parents a lot.  Sweetie is in love with The Toddler, so we met up at Chuck E Cheese's today.  Sweetie's mom and I are already putting together pictures for their wedding.

First off, I despise Chuck E Cheese.  Mediocre pizza, overpriced games, craptastic prizes that the kids long for.

Needless to say, this was my third trip, The Toddler's second.    The Husband and I had a brainfart a number of years ago and went...childless.  Yeah, it was like another four years before we conceived.  I totally give the credit to Chuck E Cheese for that gigantic dose of birth control.

We get there, and turn the kids loose.  They have a blast...alternating rides on the Bob The Builder ride.  Literally.  I've got 50 freaking tokens in my pocket, and all they want to do is ride the Bob The Builder bulldozer.  Geez.

I manage to get him to play a game, but he runs back to Bob the Builder.

We get them on another ride...then he runs back to Bob the Freaking Builder.

By the time we ordered our pizzas, I was tempted to find an employee, slip him a $20 to just turn the Bob the Builder ride on permanently.  But they won't do that, it turns out.

Seriously....they won't.  I tried.

$20 in pizza and tokens later, we had won enough tickets to score two sweet plastic snakes and a jelly spider.  That he could probably swallow.  Goodie.

Then The Toddler threw the fit of all fits, because Buzz and Woody were in the display case...for 300 tickets each.  I had 46 tickets to my name.  I am not about to go around the freaking arcade and attempt to win 300 tickets.  For toys he already has.

The tears started...then the sobs.  My child, who only throws hissy fits in the doctors office, is throwing an all out tantrum at Chuck E Cheese.  Fantabulous.

I just smile at future co-mother in law as we poked our kids into their coats.  He's sobbing and wailing.  He wants Woody and Rex.

Sweetie gives him a hug.  He pushes her away.

I explain we will come back next time with The Husband, as the girl at the front tries to scan the numbers on our arms to make sure we belong together.

I get him to the car, still wailing.

He wails all the way to Whole Foods.  He wails all the way into Whole Foods bathroom.  He wails while he is peeing.  He wails all the way out.

Then we pass the Gouda display.

Three toothpicks of some weird  three year old Gouda cheese, and he's content.  And then an orange slice.  And some cheese puffs.  And another type of cheese I cannot pronounce and thought smelled terrible.  Then some bread samples.  He chowed down all the way through the store.

He was a happy camper.  Whole Foods is like a grazing ground for toddlers.  Why had I never seen that?  How ideal!

Then I let him pick out his cookie.  We get a cookie every time we go.  It's a treat. They are good.  If you haven't had one...you need one.  You really do.

He picks his chocolate chocolate chip cookie.  I pick mine.  Same kind.  You can't go wrong.  Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cookie.

We check out.  He clutches his bag with the cookie in it.  He's singing a chocolate chip cookie song that he made up.  He's smiling.

We get to the car...we load in the groceries.  He climbs in his car seat.  He opens his bag and realizes he only has one cookie.

Nuclear meltdown.

Because I am not giving him two chocolate chocolate chip cookies.

Damnit...I went to Chuck E Cheese and ate weird pizza and played video games.  One of the cookies is mine.  I am not sharing.  He gets a cookie, I get a cookie.  I did not buy the gorgeous brownies they had in the corner.  I got a cookie, per the deal.

He wails out of the parking lot.  He wails down the street.  He wails through Starbucks drive-thru.  (He also asked if the clerk was a boy or girl...I answered boy...I think.)  Cause at this point I need a shot of something.  He wails out on to the interstate.

All the while he is wailing, he is also eating his cookie.  So he now has chocolate chocolate chip cookie smeared from ear to ear...mixed with his tears.

Freaking pitiful.  But I am eating my cookie.  Yes, I am a bad mommy.

Then silence.  He's done.

I check the rear view.

He's asleep.  Still holding a corner of the cookie.

And he sleeps all the way home.

Sweeeeet.  I can get groceries put away, get some laundry folded.  Sit down for a few minutes with a book and a Diet Dew to cancel out the cookie.  Sweeeet.

I pull in the drive way.  I get him out of the car.  I sneak him upstairs to his bed.  I put him in.

And freaking Mater falls out of the pocket of my hooded sweatshirt and clocks him in the head.

Uh huh.

I've had a crabby toddler on my hands.  A car full of groceries.  Laundry piled everywhere...oh please let him stay asleep.  Please...someone?  Whoever...just let him stay asleep.

Nope.  Not happening.

"Momma...I want to watch a movie."

Goodie.  Damnit Mater.