There's something about Trader Joe's

Within the last 6 or so months, while shopping at Trader Joe's:

• Anderson pulled over a shopping cart on himself while Beck was sitting in the seat (5 firemen just happened to be there and came to our rescue)
• Anderson had a hysterical meltdown (kicking, screaming, most likely spitting) over not getting a second sample of something (God only knows what)
• Anderson nearly stole a bag of Trail Mix and a bag of Gummy Penguins (we walked back in and returned them)
• A woman pulled me aside in the freezer aisle just to say, "it's OK, we've all been there" as a reaction to the insanity (albeit usually joyful insanity) that is my two boys in a tiny grocery store, one of whom wields his own shopping cart haphazardly through the aisles
• I dropped a hundred dollar bill on the floor only to discover it was missing when I went to pay for my groceries (I am forever indebted to the nice woman with the "God bless!" voicemail who turned it in)
• An elderly woman got down at Anderson's level while I was singing/dancing in the aisle (it was Come on Eileen, for goodness sakes) and proclaimed, "your mom's a crazy lady!"
• I had to put groceries back at the checkout when I realized I had left my wallet at home and only had a twenty in my pocket (which of course made Anderson's day as he had a legitimate reason to sing "only got twenty dollars in my pocket"). This of course caused me to have a Terms of Endearment flashback to that scene where Debra Winger is mortified at the grocery when she doesn't have enough money and everyone stares at her as if she is some sort of incompetent mother who can't even afford to feed her kids. Oh, how I love, love, love that movie, but I digress.

And then, yesterday, the best of the best:

• I locked my keys, my cell phone, and my children in the car. My kids! Trapped in their car seats, talking (screaming) through the window, not even 1 minute after I had warned them against this very thing. (Seriously, just listen to me! I am wise!) It was quite a dilemma and thanks to the kindness of many strangers (and one kind of grouchy dad who lent me his cell phone) I remained calm and handled the situation. Unfortunately I apparently drive a "high security vehicle" ha! and AAA was proving to be a bit of a hassle (locksmith? since when can't you bend a coat hanger and open that sucker up?) so I did what I do best and called my parents to help. Fortunately it wasn't a terribly hot day and within 40 minutes or so my babies were in my arms once again. Needless to say, Anderson learned his lesson about not pushing the door lock button, "never again, mommy!". All's well that ends well.

And so, Trader Joe's, I shop with fear every single week for I know my days of cheap wine and milk are numbered. It's OK, I don't blame you. Clearly there is a black cloud that follows me on every trip. Who knows what damage we are capable of causing? Perhaps there is some sort of secret employee announcement when you see me walk in the door. She's here! Hide the samples! My only saving grace is that Trader Joe's is still the unpretentious, down-to-Earth grocery for nice, normal people and so far nobody has kindly suggested that I try doing my shopping at the Trader's down the street. Not yet, at least.