I Had This Strange Urge to Share a Moment of Connection With a Random Parent
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Photo Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons (Photo Credit: Phillip Pessar from Miami, USA)
I was sitting by myself in my car in a shopping plaza parking lot, scrolling my phone for a moment before heading to my next destination when a mom and her two little kids took me back in time.
The mom was struggling to push and cajole a giant, green, car-shaped grocery cart along a row of parked cars while two small boys sat in the cart seat, twisting and turning the little black steering wheels. I live in Florida so, of course, this was outside of Publix. I hadn’t touched one of those car-cart behemoths in years, but I was all too familiar with them.
My youngest child is eight now, but for many years when my kids were little, every trip to the grocery store featured my personal battle with the green car-carts. I always had to hope the car-cart was available when we arrived, otherwise, there would be drama. If one was available, there would also be drama because one child or another would want to sit somewhere or spin the wheel in some specific way or push the giant cart into a pyramid of canned goods. I bet you thought giant pyramids of canned goods only existed in old TV sitcoms, or if they existed in the real world, went out of style decades ago. You would be right with one exception. Between five and eight years ago, store managers started hastily setting up the pyramids again anytime my children and I went shopping to provide shoppers and store employees with some light entertainment.
“Mike, hurry up with the cans! Yeah, set it up right there on Aisle 6 where the fruit snacks are. That one dad is in the parking lot and it looks like the oldest kid is insisting on ‘driving’ the car-cart. This is going to be one for the ages lol!”
Cans or no cans, the cart was pretty impossible to maneuver in the tight grocery store aisles under the best of circumstances. And grocery shopping with small children is far from the best of circumstances.
For years, the car-cart haunted my dreams on many a night. Sometimes, I miss it.
As I watched, the mom eventually parked the cart behind her SUV and wrangled her groceries and children where they needed to go. I could feel her sigh of relief when she shut the trunk door and pushed the cart aside. I remembered what it felt like when every small trip outside the house was a fight for survival.
I think I’ve finally reached the stage of parenting where I feel the urge to share moments of connection with other parents who are doing the things I used to do. I don’t know why. I guess it’s because time comes for all of us and turns us into nostalgic saps.
If I wasn’t so far away, I might’ve walked by the mom and said something like, “I’ve fought my share of battles with that cart!” That would’ve cracked her up, I bet. Maybe I would’ve offered to return it for her because I had nothing else to do. After all, my kids were at school, and I was free to sit in my car and spy on people.
Instead, I just sat and watched because interacting with strangers isn’t my thing and I didn’t want to seem super weird. I’ve gotta keep the weirdness to myself. Well, I’ll share it with you guys, but that’s where it stops.
However, as luck would have it, another opportunity for a shared parental connection arose just a few days later. I returned to the same shopping plaza on another school day, this time to pick up lunch at Chipotle (look, everyone has to eat and I freely admit I don’t have a lot going on). I grabbed my order from the shelf and was about to exit when a young woman pushing a stroller pulled open the glass door. She was clearly struggling. She shifted the stroller this way and that, trying to find the right angle while propping open the door with her foot. The man in front of me raced through the open door without stopping, helping, or acknowledging her at all. What a jerk!
I sprang into action. Gallantly holding the door. She nodded her thanks and moved past me. The stroller was zipped up so I couldn’t see who was inside. Aww, the little guy or girl must’ve been sleeping.
I came so close to saying, “No problem… I’ve been there,” but again, I held back. That connection I craved was really with my past self, so I was getting everything I needed out of these interactions without being creepy. Plus, my actions (kind of half-holding the door for a young mom) were objectively heroic, and I was ready to ride that high all day!
I sat down at the table outside Chipotle and enjoyed my veggie burrito, basking in the glow of my accomplishment. I was alone, yes, but at least I had that feeling of superiority to cling to and my memories of years gone by to flip through in my mind while I frittered away the minutes until the final school bell rang. My how things change. One day you’re struggling to push a stroller through a door or a giant car-cart around a grocery store and the next you spend most of your time waiting for your kids to come back to you.
It’s the circle of life, I suppose.
I wadded up my empty burrito wrapper and turned to find a trash can. A couple of tables over, the woman with the stroller was seated outside, meticulously picking bits of onion out of a plastic cup of pico de gallo. At this point, it was beginning to feel like fate. I was destined to experience a moment of connection with a parent—if only once.
I was on the verge of speaking up when movement from the stroller caught my attention.
A small head popped up from below table level and it was… very furry.
It also had neatly trimmed bangs. And pointy ears. And a black, shiny nose.
A doggy!
I pivoted seamlessly.
“Ma’am, your little guy is adorable! And you just have to see my big little guy named Hades. He’s a Labradoodle puppy. Eight months? Nine months? I don’t know. Somewhere around there. Time sure does fly! Here, look at this picture. My wife got this novelty towel as a gift, and you’re not going to believe it, but the dog on the towel is just a random dog! Like a stock image or something. I thought it might’ve been based on a photo of Hades, but no. So cute, right? It is nice how our fur babies are always there waiting for us when we come home, isn’t it? I mean, when we don’t bring them with us, of course! Have a great day, you two!”
So cute, right?
Those meaningful connections with other parents you start to crave when you reach a certain age and stage of your parenting journey? They’re often right in front of you. Sometimes in unexpected places. All you have to do is keep your eyes open and be ready to seize the moment.
Just make sure you don’t make it weird.
*What is truth? What is fiction? I’ll leave it up to you to decide.
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