Model Parent, Me

Both of the stores where I stop in to purchase our beer, wine, or other assorted and delightful liquors and liqueurs offer candy to the children at the checkout line. I used to think it was great: it made Fiona happy and quiet for the drive home. However, now, I’m not so sure.

She’s put together that the store is where we go for beer, and that they give her candy when we go. Rather than say “I want candy,” though, she looks at me and asks “Go get beer, Dada?”

This would be fine if it were in the privacy of our own home. After all, I know that getting beer = getting candy.

It’s not so fine in the middle of Super Target. Or in the checkout line at Super Target. Or on the way out of Super Target, trailing behind me shouting for all to hear “Go get beer, Dada? Go get beer? Beer Dada!”

In a way, I like to think “that’s my girl!” In another, I don’t even want to know what the people around us thought of my parenting skills.

3 Responses to “Model Parent, Me”

  1. Angie Says:

    OMG too funny!!! Gotta love kids!! :)

  2. wheels Says:

    Reminds me of an anecdote in Reader’s Digest a number of years ago, in which a young mother was buying beer at a grocery store, and borrowed a few pennies from her child in order to pay the exact amount.

    She didn’t care for it when the kid started crying and said, “Please don’t use my pennies to buy beer, momma!”

  3. molly_g Says:

    The Kid does that too. Still. They give popsicles in the summer. He’s asked me on certain hot days “wouldn’t you really enjoy a nice cold beer, Mom? So I can get an otter pop?”

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