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Title:
Making Groceries With Marie
Author:
Terri
E-mail:
xgrrl26@yahoo.com
Rating:
PG
Disclaimer:
I only own Sam and Nat, and I'm keeping them :)
Archive:
WRFA, Mutual Admiration, Peep Hut, everybody ask - and ye shall
receive! :) Feedback:
Please! With a cookie on top? Good, bad, and ugly welcome.
Summary:
Sequel to Midnight Feedings With Marie. The family goes grocery shopping
and Sam and Nat help out a lot.
Comments:
The title comes from my years living in New Orleans, where one does not shop
for groceries, one 'makes' groceries. I always liked that description
better (it kind of implied you were doing more work) and we already have
a 'Shopping With Marie' in this series. I actually wasn't planning
on writing a with Marie this soon-I keep telling myself to get to work on
the Rules series and quit screwing around ;) But Jikei sent me the
irresistible plot bunny of the Laughlin family taking a late-night grocery
shopping trip and Sam looking longingly at the cookie section while Nat steers
Logan toward it by his pointy hair. You see why I couldn't resist that
one, don't you?
You know,
I normally hate shoppin'. In the beginnin', I used to send Marie out
by herself-give her a little time away from the rugrats and let me have 'em
all to myself. But then she started complainin'-why do you get to play
with the kids while I gotta sort through rutabagas and shit all the time?
You do the shoppin' once in a while, she told me, I want the kids all to
myself too.
So I did
the shoppin' once in a while. I think I'm a pretty modern dad, you know?
I change their diapers, I feed 'em, I watch 'em and put 'em to sleep and
give 'em baths. I've never taken the attitude that they're just Marie's
responsibility, 'cause, you know, I had a hand in makin' 'em too, and they're
mine to look out for too. But you know what? Marie was right.
Lookin' at vegetables and shit is boring. So, for the past month or
so, we all do the grocery shoppin' together-Marie, me, Sam and Nat.
And we finally worked out a good system for it -two carts, usually Sam with
Marie and me wranglin' Nat. Ever since she knocked over that pile of
onions, Marie's been handin' her off to me when we do the shoppin'.
She complains that the girl's got her daddy's reflexes and she's not quick
enough to catch her before she gets herself into trouble sometimes.
Heh.
This time,
we got a lotta stuff to buy, so definitely two carts. Some kinda mental
breakdown happened and I agreed to have a buncha the x-men up on Sunday for
Sam and Nat's first birthday party. Yeah, yeah, I know. I've
lost it. I swear, it was just a momentary thing, but Marie musta noticed
the mental breakdown 'cause she asked right then. She even made it
seem like it was a good idea. So, we're havin' Jeannie and Scooter
(and if me invitin' him over isn't evidence of insanity, I dunno what would
be), 'Ro, Chuck, Hank, and Marie's little friends from when she went to school
there-the yellow one and what's-her-name. Plus Remy and Bobby and those
little boys. And of course, we invited Evan and Ann-gotta invite the
boss to these kinda things, Marie says. We're gonna have a helluva
full house.
I thought
we oughta make 'em all bring us food, but Marie said no, we'd cook a turkey.
I shoulda remembered her cookin'/holiday thing. So we gotta get all
that stuff for turkey plus cakes-Marie wanted to make 'em herself-plus the
regular stuff-diapers and wipies and shit. It's gonna take a while.
"Mama!"
Sam never likes bein' put in the cart-always wants Marie to hold him.
Plus, they're both a little irritable. It's past their bedtimes, actually.
It's almost nine. But we all took a four hour nap this afternoon, so
the schedule kinda got off track. Marie's hopin' they'll get sleepy
in the store. That ain't gonna happen, I could tell her right now-too
much excitement here-but they'll probably sleep on the drive home.
It's about an hour and a half and then we can just roll 'em right into the
cribs.
"Just for
a little while, OK, sugar?" Sam don't like that, but she can't carry
him all the time. He's frownin' but he's lettin' her strap him in.
Nat's gotta go in the cart a while too-at least until we get past the produce-but
she likes to ride on my shoulders, and eventually I'll give in. "OK,
uh, we need potatoes, onions, celery, tomatoes for the salad-which reminds
me, we need lettuce too-carrots, and some fruit-whatever you guys want OK?
You and Nat get the fruit and we'll cover the rest."
"Gotcha."
I can already tell that Sam's gonna be outta that cart and into Marie's arms
before long. He's givin' her the wistful look-same one she knows how
to give me when she wants somethin'-and she's not immune to it herself.
"All right, Nat, whaddya want for fruit?"
"Uppies!"
"No, no,
we talked about this, darlin', and we gotta wait until we clear the produce
aisle." She's got my pout, that's for sure. Crossed arms and
all. Heh. "How 'bout some bananas? You like bananas."
"Uppies!"
She looks cute with those little hands reachin' out and all that wild hair
floatin' 'round her little face, but she can't fool Daddy. I know she's
trouble.
"Once we
get outta the produce aisle. Do you wanna get apples or pears?"
Back to poutin'. "Well, if you don't wanna say, I'll pick then.
Uh"
"Peaws."
I think she talks a lot for one year old. Just words,
not really phrases yet, not much, but I think she knows a lotta different
words.
"OK, pears.
Now, let's see, I'll grab the potatoes while I'm over here, and-"
"Uppies,
dad!" Heh. She's really tryin' to get to me now. Sam says
mama and dada, but Nat, she says mom and dad. Makes her sound like
such a little grown-up already, and she knows it gets to me every time.
"Help me
pick carrots. Then we'll be outta the produce aisle and I can pick
you up."
"Dose!"
"Yeah, those
look good to me too." And Marie's almost done, so I think we'll just
round the corner and hit the bakery.
"Uppies
now! Uppies now, dad!"
"OK, OK,
uppies now. Come on, get on up there." She likes to be high up
on my shoulders. Marie's always worryin' she's gonna fall or somethin',
but she wraps those little legs around my neck real tight and grabs two fistfuls
of hair every time. And I got quick as hell reflexes-even when she
wobbles a little, I catch her right off. "You hangin' on? Hold
on tight."
"Gotchu."
Heh. She's so business-like about it. Like-yeah, I'm ready to
move out, dad.
"Mama!"
Oh-oh. Marie's close behind and Sam sees that Nat's escaped from the
cart already.
"OK, Sam,
come on. Oomph." I dunno exactly how she does that-balance Sam
on one hip, flip through her grocery list, and steer the cart all at once.
He's sure happy now, though-cuddlin' to her like there's no tomorrow, with
his little head pressed up to her shoulder but turned to the side so he can
still see all the excitement. "Logan-you know what? I'm sorely
tempted to just get one of these cakes instead of making our own from scratch.
What do you think? They're a little expensive."
Now, here's
a possible bone of contention. Budget stuff. At first, I thought-spend
what you need and I'll make money to cover it. But then, I realized-diapers
and baby shit is expensive, and we got two of 'em to boot. So we hadta
sit down and work out the budget. I didn't wanna have my family goin'
without anythin', you know, so at first I was kinda pissy about it, and I
didn't stick to it at all. I just went out and got stuff that I thought
they needed or would like. And every time I did, just like clockwork,
me and Marie would have a fight about the budget.
Now, you
hafta understand how Marie fights. First, she says a lotta stuff that
lets you know she's not really mad at you, you know, as a person.
She's just a little pissed at somethin' you did. Then she tries logical
arguments and stuff-explainin' why we should or shouldn't do somethin', remindin'
you what you agreed to do, that kinda stuff. Then she gets ya to agree
not to do what pissed her off no more. The catch is, she fights that
way only once - the first time you got an argument, that's the fight you
get. The second time-uh-uh. The second time, she starts off lettin'
ya see that she's pissed. And I can never tell if it's at me or what
I did, but I know for sure she's pissed. Then she says "we agreed"-and
that's where she's got ya right there. 'Cause last time she was so
nice and shit despite the fact you fucked up that you agreed to whatever
she said, no problem. But now she's got ya with that, and now you kinda
feel like shit for agreein' to somethin' and then not doin' it. We
had one of those fights about budget stuff.
The third
fight is different-you usually get the exasperated-Marie look, and she lets
ya know she's still good and pissed, but she comes up with some kinda scheme
to change the situation so you'll quit fuckin' up. Example-for the
budget stuff, she usedta be the one handlin' the money and the check book
and makin' a plan and all. After the third fight, she said she was turnin'
it all over to me to do, that she wasn't gonna say another peep about what
I spent and I could just figure it all out. Well, at first I thought-hot
damn! I can do whatever I wanna now. But then I started to realize-this
sucks. There's all kindsa bills that I didn't really even think about-utilities,
car insurance-plus I wasn't countin' all the stuff we hadta buy on a regular
basis-gas, groceries, all that shit. I hadta make sure we had enough
money left over to pay all that and make sure that I kept track of what we
spent. We didn't have no more fights after that, and I'm beginnin'
to really realize how much smarter she is than me. She got outta doin'
all that and got me to do what she wanted besides. I gotta keep a close
eye on that woman. She's wily.
"Logan-cakes?"
"Oh yeah,
thinkin'. Yeah, go ahead, I think we can cover it. We'll, uh,
get generic for some of the canned vegetables and paper towels and shit."
"OK."
Grabbin' two cakes and balancin' Sam and her purse all at the same time.
She's like some kinda marvel of mom-balance. "Let's get fresh bagels-they're
cheaper here anyway-and we'll get generic for cereal too. Can you get
a loaf of that dark bread? It's for the stuffing."
Heh.
Look at Sam-while she's grabbin' out the bagels, he's lookin' over at the
cookies with that little frown on his face. Marie calls him the cookie
monster, and he definitely got that from her. But ya know, Nat likes
'em just as much 'cause she's tryin' to use my hair to steer us over in the
cookie direction.
"Dad.."
See? I knew she'd want some.
"Hang on,
hang on." Still tryin' to steer with the hair. "Nat, hang on.
We gotta get bread, then maybe cookies, OK?" Sam's still just lookin'
at 'em. Marie's almost done. He'll let her know when he knows
he can get her attention.
"Dad"
Unlike his sister, who thinks any time's a good time to tell ya what she
wants.
"Yeah, Nat.
I'm goin'. Those points in the hair ain't for steerin', darlin'."
"Yuh-huh!"
Heh. That is kinda funny. And look-Sam's tryin' to get Marie
to take him to the cookies too. He's tuggin' at her shirt a little,
then reachin' a little hand out toward the cookies and givin' her the forlorn
look. The look that says-'Mom, you have not met all my needs.
Clearly, I gotta have a cookie.' Marie's just smilin' down at him.
She translates pretty good.
"Just one,
Sam. Just one."
"Me too!"
I don't think we've ever given Sam somethin' we haven't given Nat in the
whole year we've had 'em, but she likes to make sure anyhow.
"Remind
me to tell the cashier we took two cookies-they'll eat them before we finish
shopping."
"Sure, darlin'.
Hey-you wanna get some juice for them?"
"Yeah, let's
get juicy juice." Now, you wanna talk about some expensive shit-that's
it right there. 100% juice-you'd think you hadta wrestle the grapes
to the ground and risk death to get that shit by the way they price it.
Marie's shiftin' Sam to the other hip-he couldn't be happier. That
boy sure does love cookies. And Nat-well, there's gonna be crumbs all
in my hair, I bet. "Do we need anymore canned fruit, do you think?"
"Nah.
Got a good deal on the pears."
"Peaws!"
Nat likes to see her momma's proud smile.
"Did you
help pick some out? Great!" And she usually don't have trouble
gettin' it to show up. "How about canned veggies-I think green beans,
at least. See if there's generic. I'll go down the next aisle."
"Got it."
Let's see-green beans
"Dad!"
"What darlin'?"
Gotta be green beans around here somewhere.
"Dere!"
Well whaddya know? Up there on the top shelf-green beans. Nat
musta recognized the picture on the can. "Beeeeens!"
"That's right.
You're a smart cookie, you know that?" Just gonna get two cans.
And-heh. There's the Nat-giggle. And she's hangin' on with both
hands so she must've finished the cookie already. "Got it. Do
we need any other veggies?"
"Nuh-uh."
She likes her veggies, actually-likes anythin' chewy. Sam, he likes
sweet and creamy. Ice cream's probably his all-time favorite.
I bet he'll really get a kick outta the cake. Marie said she was gonna
cut 'em both off a big piece, strip 'em down to their diapers, and let 'em
eat cake until their hearts were content at the party. I think that'll
be cute as hell. Even if we probably will hafta rinse 'em off with
a hose after.
"OK, let's
meet up with your momma." Looks like she's almost done here.
"Hey darlin'-wanna trade kids and I'll go get the turkey?" I'd like
to get the crumbs outta my hair, and I haven't spent much time with Sam today.
He's been mostly with Marie.
"Sure."
Yeah, Sam wants to see me. Those little chubby hands are reachin' out
for me already. "Come on, Nat." Marie won't let Nat grab her
hair or ride on her shoulders but I think that Nat likes to be cuddled a
little on Marie's hip too. "There we go. Hey, pretty girl.
I haven't seen too much of you today. You've been keeping your dad
busy, huh?"
"Yeah!"
She's grabbin' Marie's boob a little there-uh-oh, OK, Marie's movin' her
hand to a better spot.
"OK.
Meet you at the dairy case, Logan?"
"Sure.
Let's go, Sam. We gotta hunt up some meat." Heh. I love
havin' a son to do stuff with. Sure, he's only one, but I'm gonna teach
him lotsa guy stuff. Not-not that I wouldn't teach Nat some of that stuff
too, but there's stuff that's just for men, ya know? Like takin' care
of your mom and your sister and how to treat girls in general. I mean,
if Nat turns out to like girls or somethin', I guess I could teach her that
stuff too, but it's really a guy kinda thing. Plus, there's also peein'
standin' up, writin' his name in the snow (I can't wait to teach him that
one!), and how to look like a macho badass. He's gonna have plenty
of facial hair to work with, I can already tell. We let Nat's hair
grow, but we hadta cut Sam's three times already. It's pointy like
mine too. Yeah, I'd better teach him about girls and stuff. He's
gonna have no problem attractin' those.
"Now, let's
see-turkey. We gotta pick a big one, 'cause we're havin' every damn
person we know over" Heh. He's lookin' down at 'em too, tryin'
to help his dad pick one. "Which one looks good?"
"Dat."
Hmm.
"That one
does look good, but I think we need a bigger one. Can you find a bigger
one?" Marie says to do stuff with 'em like this-tryin' to teach 'em
bigger and smaller, near and far, that kinda shit. I think it's sinkin'
in a little. They don't always get it right, but they do damn good
for only one year old.
"Dat."
See? He did pick a bigger one. And that one looks good to me.
Me and my son have successfully hunted up a turkey. Heh.
"Good job."
Sam smiles a lot when his momma or me say 'good job.' He's a lot more
subtle than Nat about gettin' attention, but he likes it just the same.
I like hangin' out with him. He's mellow. "Let's go-uh, wait-I
bet your momma wanted some of this stuff." Gotta have beer in the house.
That's non-negotiable. Aw, don't tell me they're outta-no-no.
One case of Molson left. No need to panic. Hey, I wonder if we
should get somethin' else for the party. Probably wine. "Shit,
what kinda wine goes with turkey?"
"Dat."
Well, Sam's got just about as much of an idea as I do, so why not?
"OK.
Let's get goin'."
"Mama!"
"Yeah, we're
gonna find your mom, but, uh, you like dad too, right?" Big smile there,
and I'll give him one back. He sure does like his dad. "Good.
Good to know." He's got the best smile, you know? Big and bright
and cute even with hardly any teeth. You know, when I look at 'em sometimes,
I wonder what they'll pop up with that's from me or their mom. I kinda
hope they don't get her skin. I know how hard that is for her-even
now, when she can touch all of us. But I hafta say I kinda hope they
both get my senses, and I can kinda picture Sam sniffin' up somethin' he's
huntin'. He'd be real good at huntin'-quiet and subtle and sneaky.
Oh, yeah, I can't wait for that.
"Dada."
"Yeah?"
Oh, I get it-he's lookin' at the little display of diapers. I bet Marie
swiped some, though.
"Dipeees."
"Uh-huh.
But I bet your momma got some already." She said meet her in the dairy
case and I-uh, whoa-huh. He's tuggin' at my shirt somethin' fierce.
"What's up?"
"Dipeees!"
"I bet your
momma got some, Sam, don't worry, you're not going to go without diapers.
We got that covered." He looks so upset, almost like he's gonna cry or somethin'.
He don't usually cry.
"Get diapeees!"
Whoa. I think that's his first little phrase there. He seems so
worried about it-it won't hurt to throw some in the cart. I can always
run 'em back when I catch up to Marie. "Dipeees 'gen." He means
more diapers-he latched onta "again" for more or another one or stuff like
that.
"OK, OK,
Sam." Two of 'em. I'd bet that Marie already got two, maybe three.
Sometimes she likes to stock up, but these little guys grow so damn fast-they're
already bigger and talkin' more and eatin' real food ahead of their time.
"Fanks."
"You're welcome."
That got another huge Sam-smile. He's the polite one for sure.
Learned 'thanks' right off. Can't say 'you're welcome' yet though,
but that'll come. His sister's still workin' on rememberin' to say
thanks. "Now let's go get your momma."
"Diapees."
"Uh-huh.
She'll be glad to see we made sure not to forget the-" Well, I'll be
damned. There's Marie at the end of the aisle, tryin' to pick out some
cheese and puttin' back the things Nat's grabbin' off the display.
And there's no diapers in the cart. Weird. Really weird.
"Hey-do you know somethin' I don't, Sam?" Couldn't be powers comin'
out already. At least I don't think so. And neither one of us
has telepathy or any shit. It's gotta be a coincidence. Gotta
be. There's no way he coulda known she forgot to grab diapers.
On the other hand, he's smilin' a mischievous little smile right now
"Hey, Logan.
I think we're done. Get everything? Oh-hey! You got diapers.
I forgot them-thanks."
"Sam did
it."
"Yeah?"
She's just smilin' and fussin' with Nat and she's not really gettin' it.
"Yeah.
He made a big fuss, wouldn't let me pass 'em up. It's almost like he
knew you forgot 'em. It was weird."
"You don't
think....." She's skeptical too.
"Honey,
Nat." Kid's gonna have all those shredded cheese packages on the floor
in a second.
"Oh."
She's givin' Nat the stern look that says 'stop it.' Nat's poutin'
now, but she's listenin'. "Logan, do you really think it's-it's that?"
"Dunno.
Could be a coincidence. Wanna trade me?" Nat's a handful, and
I'm better at keepin' her contained. And Sam-well, if he can sense
Marie, that'd make a lotta sense of why he's always wantin' to be close to
her, always wantin' her to hold him. I dunno. Maybe we're just
overreactin', reachin' for things that aren't there. Plenty of things
are coincidence. "We good to go?"
"Yeah, let's
checkout." It's not too crowded and they're just about to close-shouldn't
take long. Look at all that stuff. Shit, there were times that
I didn't own that much stuff, total, when I was livin' on my own. Heh.
I see she got bacon for me. She bitches sometimes 'cause it's bad for
you and expensive on top of that-well, for good, thick bacon, the kind I
like it is-but she threw some in anyhow. Yeah, she still likes me.
"That's one
eighty-two fifty seven." Pretty close. We try not to go over
one seventy-five for groceries, but this is a pretty special occasion and
we gotta feed a lotta people, so seven and a half bucks over ain't too bad
for all that. "Have a nice evening!" People here ain't too bad
either. It's actually kinda nice once in a while to come into town
and see people. It's a friendly small town and everybody 'oohs' and
'aaahs' over the kids. I can't blame 'em much. They're damn good
lookin' kids.
"Home?"
Nat likes gettin' out but she likes goin' home too.
"Yeah, time
to head home with you guys. It's way past your bedtime." Nat's
crinklin' her nose up at that. She usually don't like to be put down
to sleep, no matter how tired she gets. Always thinks she might be
missin' out on somethin'.
"Logan,
do you want to drive?"
"Sure, darlin'."
She looks pretty beat, you know. And she's gonna have a lotta work
on her hands gettin' ready for the party. "You just close your eyes
there if you get sleepy. I'll carry you in when we get back if you
doze off."
"I had fun
today." She is gonna doze off, I can tell just by the way she said
that.
"Me too."
"Oh, and
I meant to tell you-glad you remembered the beer and wine too."
"Sure, but
Scooter's gonna hafta drink Molson."
"Yeah, I
noticed there was no Miller Lite in there. Good choice of wine, though.
The Riesling will go great with turkey." No way. There's no way
that- "Logan?"
"Uh, Sam
picked it. I have no damn idea what wine goes with anythin'."
Now that *hadta* be a coincidence. No way he could know that, not bein'
one year old.
"So you're
saying that he's got some kind of culinary mutation? The ability to
match wines?" She don't think it means anythin' either, she's jokin'.
Maybe it don't. Maybe the diapers didn't either. Maybe we're
thinkin' entirely too much about this whole thing.
"Nah.
They're still little for powers to be comin' out. Coincidence.
Hadta be."
"Hmmm."
She's half-out already, and so are the kids. I can see 'em in the rearview
mirror, both of 'em got their heads slumped to the side. Nat's already
droolin'. Well, whatever they got, it'll be fine. They're ours
and we're gonna give 'em a lotta love. Whatever it is, it'll be fine.
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