No. Don't touch. Don't touch! DON'T TOUCH! Stop. Don't touch. Don't touch. Stop. Come here. No. No. No! NO! Stop! Don't touch! I said don't touch that! Don't touch! DON'T TOUCH! DON'T TOUCH THAT!
That's how our trip to the store this morning went.
Originally I had Jonas (8 months old) in the seat part of the shopping cart and Simon (2 years old) in the basket. Yes, I know it says right there on the cart not to do that, but that's really my only option. Jonas is too big for the carts with the baby seat already attached but too young for the (gigantic) carts with the seats that face each other. So Jonas in the seat and Simon in the basket is how it's gotta be... except when I'm buying anything breakable: eggs.
Today I bought eggs. Simon, to his great joy, got to walk. But to his disappointment, he had to wear the baby leash. So to make up for the fact that he couldn't dart down the aisle squealing in delight at the fact that I'd have to chase him (he sort of looked like Mike Meyers in this SNL sketch minus the helmet), he decided running his hands over every single item at toddler level was his best alternative. Every. Single. Item.
I gave empty threats to put him back in the cart (remember, I had eggs in there!). I threatened to take away his beloved outside play time. I mostly just said "No," "Don't touch," and "Stop," over and over again in the sternest mommy voice I could muster without causing a scene or making someone think I'd abuse my child. And of course Jonas is all the while getting mad that I'm giving all my attention to Simon. But in the end, nothing got broken, no one ran off and I made it home with all the groceries... plus two fussy children who are thankfully napping right now.