Shopping with hobbits...

Ok, brace yourselves - it's that time of the week again.  Food shopping with three hobbits.

It should come with it's own hazard warning. I should have a police escort to Tesco's, and an armed officer loudly exhaling over the megaphone... "WARNING, Please stand back, hobbits entering the store...Please Sir step away, there is nothing to see here...keep moving people..."

Alas, no man in uniform for me...but hey we can do this - we've done it before and come out unscathed, haven't we?

However, this is commuter time. This is when the real adults come out to shop. All the mum's with children, who feel exactly the same way as I do, and always nod understandingly in my direction as they see one of my hobbits shove a grape up another ones nose, they shop in the early hours. They know when it's safe to do so.

I am doing this at the same time as people who are on their way home from work - single men and women looking for fresh broccoli and meals for one; young students getting reduced priced bargains as it's coming to the end of the day and would be millionaires getting their lottery tickets...I am doomed!!!

No, I breathe. It's ok, I only have a short list and I warned them on pain of death whilst seated in the car that they do not run in the aisle; help themselves to the pick and mix or, god forbid, as one expedition memory popped into my head, sneeze on the fruit.

As we enter I can feel the excitement building in them, and the tension building in me. What is it about supermarkets that send them delirious? The shiny bright lights? The bleep bleep of the till? The excitement is making them twitch with intent.

"Don't run off." I hiss through clenched teeth. Hands gripping the back of the trolley so that the whites of my knuckles shine through. "...and don't fight."

We make it past the newspapers and magazines without a hitch - thank crap - only the sweetie aisle and toys to get past now. It's like the bloody Crystal Maze for kids. Can you resist children? Can you?

I march through the aisles like a woman on speed, throwing in items into the trolley with no concern for bruised fruit or squashed bread.

"Hey look mum,' calls Superman, "A giant Lemon!" He holds it up proudly.
"Put it down, its a melon."
"No, it's a lemon" He says defiantly chucking it up in the air.  Thankfully he catches it and puts it down, and I wistfully consider how great if it was - would go perfect with the large G&T I'm yearning for right now.

We move on quickly in my very own version of Supermarket Sweep, and other shoppers move away like Moses and the sea as we pass them. It's like having three chattering monkeys on helium, "Can we have this? Mum, we need Ketchup! Hey look mum, red pasta!"

Before I know it we are coming to the last hurdle...the sweet aisle, I have no option not to pass it. It's as the bottom of aisle 10 and I need apple juice in aisle 11. All three heads turn like the exorcist and sniff out sugar and E numbers... I sigh, "Ok, if you behave for 5 more minutes, you can have sweets. We just need to get the last bits." They are placated for just a few minutes more, but before long my trolley is filled with 7 other items that I distinctly remember were not on my list. Thankfully, one of them is pink coloured, chilled to touch and has the name of a vineyard emblazoned on the front.

Hobbits also like to help at the self serve till. The trouble is, as anyone knows you can only do one thing at a time at these things, pick up, scan, put in bag - the machine doesn't understand hobbits who each try to scan something at the same time.

But before long it's over, in record time too - just 22 minutes. We are out of the supermarket door. There is light, I pinch myself - I am still alive - we made it. A small amount of excitement bubbles up in me, elated that I didn't scream or melt down in an aisle; I didn't cry and all hobbits still have their own limbs...or maybe it's the thought that I have something chilled in my shopping bags?

Quick get in the car before anyone notices the packet of chewing gum Batman has slipped in his pocket...