Are We There Yet?
'I'll have a little whiskey to wash down my crow'
Lori Clinch

Last week I wrote about how our boys are growing up. I even bragged a little about how I could take them into public again. That I could smile at others as they struggled with their toddlers, and even found myself patting a frustrated mother on the back as I gave her the age-old line, "Enjoy it; these are the best years of your life."

It was a column that I didn't want to write, but it became stuck in my head like a bad country and western song.

I finished it with tears and a hankie and then sent it off to the newspapers. I then loaded up my three younger boys and for reasons I may never understand, I took them to the grocery store.

One would think that, given my experience, I would know better than to take the kids out into public. Alas, I wrote that my boys are growing up and, sadly enough, I believed my own words.

We hadn't even rounded the first corner in Sun-Mart before Huey, my darling 14-year-old son, put a chokehold on Lawrence, his 12-year-old brother. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to put on a show, Lawrence dramatically grabbed the arm that was rendering the chokehold and held it in place as he proceeded to make the proper chokehold noises, thus convincing his captive audience that he was actually being choked.

It was worthy of an Academy Award.

Naturally, the children were performing in the middle of a wide-open area where fellow shoppers could easily view them while I was loitering about 20 paces back by the avocados. The last thing I wanted to do was to scream at Huey to relinquish the hold (hate to draw attention), so I ran at them with my cart whispering, "Huey, Huey, let go of him now."

I gave them both the look of death, and turned to the onlookers and said, "It could be worse - they could be yours."

I let the boys run on ahead, hoping that no one in the store would link them to me. I had just calmed down from the first scenario when the children reappeared with arms full of juice, chips and cereal, and I'll be danged if Huey didn't put a chokehold on Lawrence again.

Lawrence, again seizing the moment, started flinging his arms about and making the same chokehold noises that made it all so believable. Happily enough, we had a brand-new audience to witness the scenario, along with a few of the faithful viewers that we had attracted with our first act.

The bad thing about kids acting up in the grocery store is that fellow shoppers are shifting their gazes between the misbehaving children and the horrified parent to see how she will react. I could almost see the heads going back and forth as if it were a tennis match and the ball was in my court.

With a forced smile and acting as if one child pretending to choke another was no big deal, I grabbed my keys and handed them to Huey and whispered in my firmest of voices, "Go to the car." With a little rumble, I then added, "Right now!"

Lawrence, not wanting to let all of the fun end, immediately did something to Little Charlie and Little Charlie then spun around, with something that appeared to be a karate move and kicked Lawrence nicely in the shins while he screamed so that anyone within a five-aisle radius could hear, "You are an idiot!"

Reminding myself to enjoy them, because they do grow so fast, I then sent Lawrence to join his brother in the car and kept Little Charlie with me, since I knew the older brothers would most likely lock him out. I also knew, full good and well, that Little Charlie would then attempt to open the door repeatedly, and thereby set off the car alarm so that any and all patrons interested in witnessing a scene could have then enjoyed a honking locked car with a 14-year-old smiling at the helm as a 10-year-old brother stood at the bow calling him an idiot.

All of this drama was unfolding as my column detailing how fast they grow and how much I love them and how I can go out into public again, was rolling off the press.

I'm no country and western fan, but I do have a title in mind for a new hit song: I Think I'll Have a Little Whiskey With My Crow.

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch.com.