Don’t Cry Over The Broken Eggs

Got caught in the rain today…

You’re probably wondering what that has to do with eggs…

It’s all part of the story. You see I took the kids shopping today, not the best idea, but the family’s got to eat.

It started quite well really; the boys were still getting along at the bottom of the stairs as we made our way out the communal door.

We have an impromptu stop at the city farm for the fruit and veg, and of course the eggs. Six freshly laid eggs all in different colours and sizes and still covered in dirt.

The boys are still doing OK as I run the bags upstairs and rush down again (the bananas they are inhaling certainly help)

We head off for our second try for the supermarket and make it all the way, and out the other side to the recycling depot to drop off our glass bottles and jars.

Finally we enter the glass sliding doors.

With one hand I am pushing a double pram with two not so small and progressively agitated boys inside (and a scooter hanging off the back), and with the other I’m pulling the shopping trolley.

Through the meat the whingeing has already begun, a short pause at the fish as the fish man is nice and fish are very interesting and then back into it as we travel through condiments.

The kicking and fighting has well and truly started by the time we get to bread, only one more stop for cereal and we can get outta there. (I’m feeling a little flustered at this point).

The checkout is where we reach boiling point and I have to have the biscuits scanned straight away so we can crack ‘em open.

Yes, we’re out the doors, the sun is shining, and the shopping is over…. But this is Scotland so before we rounded the first corner we are in a downpour. Coming from Victoria where rain is a rare and precious commodity I love walking in the rain.

Still we arrive home like drowned rats ready to begin the trek up the stairs. This is a circus in its own right.

Master D holds the door open while I take the bags from the pram (which is still sitting outside in the rain with Baby R in it) and rush them to the bottom of the stairs) I then lug the pram up the three stairs and into the bottom hall way (here they call it ‘the stair’) and park it next to the shopping.

I then lug 4 heavy shopping bags, 2 children, and 1 scooter up the 2 flights of stairs.

And what has any of this got to do with the eggs?

Well lets just say at the end of all this I was a little tightly wound, and when I heard the ominous “oh ho” from Baby R and walked in to find the egg carton on the floor, and beautiful freshly laid organic eggs broken on the floor, I really did want to cry!

I think the 6 quid delivery fee for online shopping could be the best investment I will ever make!

Do you have any funny ‘shopping with kids’ stories? eggs

More Stories?

Leaving Australia

Midnight Snacks at the Hilton

Halloween is over I know but…

Or Maybe some Photos?

Edinburgh in Winter

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