I felt quite reasonable this afternoon so went grocery shopping for the first time for weeks...been to get a few bits and bobs of course, but not a full scale proper shop. Didn't go all over wobbly or have to stop and lean on something...it was quite a novelty.
But I've turned into one of those shoppers I've always been horribly rude about...those who buy packet cakes and ready- made pies...anything for an easy life sort of shopper, who then mutters about the bill when they arrive at the check-out. But needs must, and cooking a meal still has me flummoxed while the very thought of baking cakes has me coming out in a cold sweat. I think the answer might be in having another of those tall stools with a back on it...the sort I bought for my shed. Then I could reach the worktops comfortably and chop and baste without worrying too much about breathing...
There were several Traveller girls in the supermarket with assorted small children, plus the inevitable newborn baby...there's always one of those...and I was thinking how well-behaved the children were. They didn't run about or shout or make a nuisance of themselves in stark contrast to three small people I was unfortunate enough to come into contact with when we went to Roscommon.
Those children were foul...mother kept telling them to stop running and they carried on regardless...the temptation to trip the main offender up with my stick was making my fingers itch and then the small girl started...she looked to be about three. She wanted a DVD...she stood there feet planted firmly...hands on hips...and began saying 'I want DVD' quite quietly at first then when mother said she couldn't have one her voice rose to screaming pitch and she bawled 'I WANT DVD' not just the once you understand...she repeated it...often. The boys had taken the opportunity to go back to racing up and down the aisles until one of the staff told them to stop running...now.
She didn't give them a reason why they ought not run about...just told them to stop. And they did. I was rather hoping she'd tackle the little girl, who was by this time scarlet in the face from rage while her mother looked at sunglasses, apparently oblivious to the scene her daughter was causing.
Everyone has their own way of coping with their children when they are out...and some advice does say you should simply ignore any bad behaviour...but when that behaviour is affecting total strangers waiting in a queue to buy half a dozen pairs of knickers on special offer, something needs to be done.
I once met a foster parent at some meeting or other who fostered teenagers...personally I can't imagine anything worse...he had a lad who'd been pushed around from pillar to post and had always been moved on because of his poor behaviour. It was described as being unable or unwilling to accept the consequences of his actions...he had a television in his bedroom which he watched most evenings which was fine...then he began to watch it late at night with the volume turned up high. It disturbed the entire household.
He was told repeatedly to turn the sound down...and he would for a little while and then the volume would increase again...one night his foster Dad had enough...he walked into the boys room and unplugged the television...opened the bedroom window and simply dropped in onto the path outside where it broke into a hundred bits...then he walked out and closed the door behind him...all without uttering one single word.
That lad stayed with the family until he was eighteen when he joined the Army to train to be a cook...the last I heard was that he had a steady girlfriend and was staying with his foster family whenever he was on leave...