Serenity In Aisle 6

The grotesque glow of fluorescent lights welcomes me as I walk through the doors. I feel an immediate sense of calm pass through me.

It's not lavender that I smell, but perhaps basil or cilantro.
No cucumber mud masks here, just plenty of cucumbers.

An elderly gentleman smiles at me and shuffles by. A Sponge Bob balloon floats next to Mickey Mouse in the distance. I try my best to ignore them. I stroll casually along, hearing the babble of a baby wrapped up tightly in fleece. I tune it right out.

This is my night. My moment.

Supermarket shopping sans toddler.

Ah, serenity. Serenity. Serenity at the supermarket.

I might as well be at a spa in Sedona wrapped in seaweed. This is pure bliss.

I wouldn't care if the checkout lines were snaked around like those at Disney World. That would just mean extra time for me to be free with my thoughts.



"Stace!"

Oh, wait a minute. Someone's calling my name.

Oh, lucky day! A friend is walking towards me, basking in the glow of her own ingenious idea of leaving her daughter at home with daddy.

"I feel high," I confess, giggling. "Isn't this FANTASTIC, just strolling the aisles without anyone yelling, 'SNACK!'?" She nods in agreement. "The only thing that would make this better: cocktails. Next time, I'm serving cocktails in aisle 4."

She laughs, wondering what kind of meds I'm on and how she can get her hands on some too.

Seriously, I may pour cocktails the next time I sneak out to the supermarket without my little cookie monster. Can you imagine if you're perusing the ingredients on the side of a cereal box and you hear:

"Attention shoppers: Calling all exhausted, hardworking, deserving moms. Were you wise enough to leave your kids at home tonight? If so, come sample some delicious strawberry mojitos in Aisle 3, as well as freshly made guacamole and chips. And that's not all! The bakery department is cutting a cookie cake in your honor."

Would you bolt towards Aisle 3?

What if it had been a particularly stressful day, full of antics, like your toddler standing, no, jumping, in his high chair, throwing chunks of chicken onto the Persian rug and banging trains on the window, with a mischievous gleam in his eye?

The announcement continues: "Looking to make an evening out of this supermarket outing? We've got toilet paper, facial cleanser, and any other toiletries you may need in Aisle 8."

Would you sprint towards Aisle 8? Would you stay the night?

I stroll through the frozen foods section, contemplating this idea. A slumber party at the supermarket. Wow.

But, then I think of my two favorite guys getting cozy at home, watching "Roary the Racing Car" in bed.

It's official. It's time to leave the "spa." It's time to say goodbye to serenity.

It's time to go home.