To Peanut: I’m glad you got a sleepover with grandma and with it the alone time you crave. You really did not have to spend 24 hours back in three-year-old tantrum land to prove to me that re-entry is so hard. I get it; I’m supportive and understanding. Knock it off.
To Costco: when you say, “Come in; we have nine tires to replace the one you just blew and the three that will soon,” and I come in, then go home for my checkbook because you have a sweetheart deal with KILLING ME that card I only use in emergencies, and *then* when I come back you tell me you can only find three tires? You lose a customer for life.
To tire dealerships within a 20 mile radius: Seriously? I have the most popular car in the area. Surely you knew you’d need four of this size soon. A pox on your auto-service establishments. All seven of them I called.
To my children: I could kiss you on the faces for being patient at the tire store and the other tire store and the mechanic and the knee doctor and the grocery store. Considering the fact that you’re six and two, you were rockstars*. You’re the only group in the whole lot that gets a customer for life.
*Except for Peanut’s 24 hours of age-inappropriate tantrums. And Butter blindsiding me twice in my bad knee while playing a game of “run away from nothing.” Not cool, guys. Not cool. I will forgive you because the tires are on, the knee is healing, and the kitchen is full. And because I have way too much invested in our brand to ditch you now.
NaptimeWriting 
I like Costco, but yeah, that credit card situation. Ugh. My former boss would want to throw office parties. And since I was the one with the Costco membership and the City Car Share membership, and since he found the enormity and brightness of Costco rather alarming, I was the one to go along. He conveniently forgot more than once that Costco didn’t accept the office credit card (and he refused to get a PIN to use it as a debit card), so I had to put the entire purchase on my debit card, hoping for a speedy reimbursement. Granted, Costco was just one of the many issues I had with that whole situation, but it’s the one that hasn’t changed. I’m glad your kids held it together during all that.
I don’t mean to be judgemental, Matt, but I don’t like your boss.
Sounds like you had a fun day. It’s amazing how good children are during disasters. Mine are ever so patient. Run yourself a nice hot bath and soothe away those troubles!
Genius! Never thought of bath. Delightful idea.
Oh man that stinks. The thought of looking for a tire with my kids makes me shake with terror. And your knee? Ouch! That sucks. Funny post!
Oh no! Tires and toddlers? Sounds like a horrible combination. Glad you survived. Your poor knee! Shame on Costco!
That many crappy errands with two small children sounds pretty much like hell. I do hope there was good pain medication or wine (or both) forthcoming after all that.
Neither. But crap and small children go hand in hand. Actually, crap and life go hand in hand, so I’m trying the whole “taking it in stride” approach to save winde and pain meds for the big stuff. ;-)
To be fair, it was spread over three days. No meds, no wine. Yes packing for a road trip. That’s almost worse than the errands…
Is the kitchen full with chips and salsa, pineapple, and some sort of frozen sweetness? Because that would also give me Job’s patience.
Yes, ma’am. And wine and cheeses and veggies and tofu and chocolate and spices and sauces.
I blame Costco, too. Especially for the bulk-sized bad behavior it inspires the moment we enter the store.
And re-entry tantrums are horrific on so many levels. Mostly because they’re compounded by the almost irresistible desire to throw one in return because we’re not that happy about it either. (Or maybe that’s just me…)
Not just you. Increasingly, I’d like to throw tantrums after breaks.
I tell my kids all the time that I can’t get rid of them because they were way too hard to get to this point. It’s a wonder that they don’t call children’s services on me.
I think CPS can only intervene if you actually get rid of them, not when you tell them you’ve worked too hard to ditch them now. Pretty surethreats to continue investing in your kids are unpunishable by current law, intrusions into utero-politics notwithstanding.