And then there are the days you're all alone. The house is devoid of food. You have taken stock and made the list and prepared the children and remembered the shopping bags.

Of course, you forget the list and the children forget you or any word of virtue you've ever spoken. The grocery store is full and they trail behind you leap-frogging and crashing into the cheese aisle. One physically removes himself from the trolley (cart) at the till (register), getting stuck and crying to anyone who will listen. You bag your own bags and give your brood the curtest, loudest (because you just don't care anymore how quiet your American voice is) direction to Go. Now.