I Finally Figured It Out

Four weeks ago I went grocery shopping and was forced to take all four of my boys. We now know what hell will be like. (Notice how I said that as though I already have one foot in the door? Interesting.) I had Cameron and Ethan kung-fu fighting each other in the isles and Drew grabbing things off of any shelf that I steered too close to, and Trent, who was just sitting in his car seat being chubby. Well, when Cameron and Ethan had finally pushed me to the edge, I grabbed them both and in my scariest voice, which was also shaking with anger, I whispered, "When we get home, I am going to call your Dad and tell him how horrible you two were and he is going to beat the crap out of you!" Well, there were three reasons that I wished I hadn't said that. #1: I apparently can't whisper when I'm angry because I got quite a look from a lady who was picking out her twinkies and ho-ho's in the next isle. I fully expected a cop to be waiting for me when I exited the store. #2: I have never pulled the "Wait 'til your father gets home" card because I always wanted the kids to be just as scared of me as Andrew, (or should I have said just as obedient for me as for Andrew?), and I am perfectly capable of dealing with anything they do. Right? And #3: While I was busy making the veins in my forehead pop out, Drew managed to get 2 jars of salsa con queso into the cart, and I didn't discover them until we got home and put everything away. Not really a huge deal except that it ended up being pretty nasty. He could have at least chucked something decent in. (Before I go on, do we all know that Andrew would never beat the crap out of our children? Okay, just making sure.)
So, two weeks ago I was in the same horrid place with the same misbehaving children...except for Drew, who was uncharacteristically being sweet and obedient. So rather than perform a repeat of the previous shopping trip and risk a visit from the good old officers of the Layton Police Department, I bought a bag of Skittles and when all the kids were back in the car and buckled in, I presented Drew with the "prize" for being the best behaved child in the store. I have to say, sometimes there CAN be joy in making your children cry. Cameron and Ethan were pretty upset, and I was on top of the world. So today, when I yet again had all four children at the store, there was nothing but single file lines, offers to push the carts and peacefulness. As a result, the three older boys all got prizes. Ethan for being the toughest cart-pusher in all of Super Wal-Mart, Cameron for managing to not throw up in the store, and Drew, for not subjecting us to unnecessary purchases via the "you break it; you buy it" rule. I am now a very happy shopper.