In Which I Am A Calm Mom

So, I'm standing in Winners. I need a new hair dryer because my old one started shooting sparks at my head while I was using it.

(Sully walked past the bathroom and exclaimed, "Mom! There's fire in your hair dryer!" And I was like, "No, it's just very hot air." And he was like, "NO! There's actually fire!" And I was like, "No, it's just very hot air." And Sully was like, "LOOK MOM THERE IS FIRE IN YOUR HAIR." Long story short, there was, indeed, fire in my hair. I went hair dryer-less for a while, like a pioneer woman. But Laura Ingalls Wilder didn't have to walk her kid across the school yard when it was -50 with dripping wet hair, did she? I bet not. After doing that a time or two, I decided I needed a hair dryer again.)

So. I'm standing in Winners. I need a new hair dryer. I have two children with me, and it's almost lunch time (which also means that it's almost nap time). This is the worst possible time of the day to go to Winners. Scarlett and Sullivan are hungry, Scarlett's exhausted, I'm about ready to tap out.

But I need a hair dryer.

I have located a hair dryer mountain (because it's Winners and everything's just stacked up in piles everywhere with the cheapest things at the bottom of the piles so as to reward a careful search). I'm sifting through the boxes, trying to figure out which one is the cheapest (my only requirement for most hair products, which is probably why my hair looks the way it does). Scarlett is doing that thing where she inches away from me with a big grin on her face. She wants to see how many miles she can get before I notice she's not standing obediently at my side like Sullivan. Sullivan is annoyed. His conscience won't let him mess with me like Scarlett does, but he's kind of bitter about it. If he can't have fun, she shouldn't be able to have fun either.

So I'm bent over a stack of hair dryers, and Scarlett's drifting away and Sully's tattling on her and I'm shushing him and calling her back and I'm sure everyone around us is annoyed but whatever, we'll be gone soon.

"Mo-omm! Scarlett's going over there again!"
"Scarlett! Get back here."
*Shrieking and laughing*
"No, seriously, Scarlett, come here."
"Mo-ooowwwmm-mmmmmm she's not listening to you!"
"Scarlett? Do you need a time out when we get home?"
"No! I tumming!"
"Excuse me, how many centimeters are in an inch?"

Heh?

I look up and there's this lady hovering above me holding a tourmaline curling iron. She is very tall and very expectant, all full of confidence that I am the exact right person to answer this question right at this very moment.

"How many centimeters are in three inches, do you know?"

I have no idea and I, apologetically, tell her that. And I tell Sully to stop tattling on Scarlett and I tell Scarlett, once again, to come back here and I tell Sully that, yes, I'm hungry too, we'll be on our way in, like, two minutes. I've lost my place. I have looked through ten of the twenty or so hair dryers in this stack, and so far the cheapest option is $60. I can do better.

"Mom! Look at Scarlett! She's touching something she's not supposed to!"
"Scarlett, come here, hun, I need you to stay close, just for one more minute."

Scarlett makes a quick assessment of my situation. I am holding five hair dryers. She knows I'm helpless. She makes a break for it.

"Scarlett! Come! Here!"
"Mom! She's running! In the store," says Sullivan, very concerned, from where he is perched almost on my shoulder, like one of those little shoulder angels you always see in cartoons.
"I wunning!" says Scarlett, gleefully, from Paris.
"Scarlett, come back here, NOW. Sully, please stop telling on Scarlett," says I, trying to sound like a calm mom.
"I think it's something like 2.5. I'm fairly certain there are 2.5 centimeters in an inch," says the woman, who is, last time I checked, not my child.

I'm cramming hair dryers back onto the pile haphazardly, one eye on Scarlett, who's peeking at me around a corner.

"Um...maybe?" I say. I really have no idea. I'm the worst at conversions, especially since I got an iPhone. Ah. "Did you ask Google?" I say. And then I tell Sully to stop tattling and I go get Scarlett and tell her she can't run away in public and she's appropriately remorseful but so, sooooooo hungry, mom, and Sully is also so, sooooooo hungry mom, and I'm also so, soooooo hungry, everybody, but I need a hair dryer! And that's the only reason I drug everyone out of the house!

So we! Are going! To get! A hair dryer!

And we! Are going! To pay less than $60!

I have, like, five more boxes to check. There has to be a cheap hair dryer in here somewhere. There just has to. I don't like being a pioneer lady.

"Mom, what does that say?" Sully is tapping me on the shoulder, trying to read the back of a conditioner bottle on the next shelf over. "Con...di...con...di...ti..."
"Conditioner," I tell him.
"Mommmmmmmm..." Scarlett is leaning against me, her little head on my shoulder, her little mouth agape. "I soooooo hunnnnnnng-yyyy..."
"Mom, after we're done here, can we go to McDONALD'S?" Sully is jumping up and down.
"YEAH! MCDONAH'S!" Scarlett is jumping up and down.
"YEAHHHHH!!" Sully is still jumping up and down, but higher now.
"I was right!"

There is, all of a sudden, an iPhone in my face, 2.5 centimeters from my eyeballs.

"2.5 centimeters in an inch! I was right! Good old GOOGLE."
"Mom, when we get home, can we read my library book?"
"I love Google."
"Mom, when we get home, ten I has a YOGUT!?"
"I don't know what we'd do without Google. Fahrenheit to Celsius. Tablespoons to...you name it."

I nod at my children, all three of them, one of them who is even taller than me, and I am very tall for a girl. Yes, we can read a library book, yes, we ten has yogut, yes, I don't know what we'd do without Google.

They all grin back at me, pleased, and we have a moment of perfect silence. Ah. We are all happy. We are good at shopping. I am a calm mom.

I pick up the last box. $30.

Mission accomplished.