let's discuss... self-checkout at the grocery store

I needed literally only four things from the grocery store on the way home this afternoon. I even had Will help me remember the list (his part was noodles). quick in, quick out, no problem.

fast-forward to self-checkout: If you are 80 years old and the teenager who stands there and monitors self-checkout is really having to scan all your groceries and put them in sacks for you, it is NOT self check-out. that is exactly the OPPOSITE situation for self-checkout. in fact, you are the poster child for a good ol' regular checkout line.

normally, that wouldn't bother me, but just wait...

one of the aforementioned items to get was cheese - the little snack-things for Will's lunches. and of course, this particular grocery store (Kroger!) did not carry them in the neat little packaged bag, so I had to buy 10 individual mini-cheeses (and just in case you are wondering, the 10 mini cheeses did NOT put me over the 15 item limit).

William was in fine form (all over the place) and was standing next to me, because of course, when you are in for a quick trip, he can just hold your hand and walk alongside you, right? a great plan until it comes time to self-checkout and you need both hands. the stupid machine kept telling me to put items back in the bag, take items out, re-scan, etc. because SOMEONE'S hands were banging all over the apparently super-sensitive weighted platform that the sacks are on.

again, normally not a problem, except that the melancholy teenager who usually pushes a button to get the whole thing rolling again is scanning/sacking the groceries of the 80 year old lady in SELF CHECK-OUT who is, by the way, WAAAAAY over the 15 item limit.
eventually, I call over to him, "can you please push whatever button you need to so the machine will keep scanning?"

he looks over at me (us) and says in his most knowledgeable, dignified, I-am-under-the-age-of-20-so-I-am-infinitely-cooler-than-you voice, "it's his hands, ma'am", looking directly at William.

it took every ounce of self-control to refrain from, "really? you think?!?!" along with a few other expletives. but instead I chose this fine phrase: "yeah, I know. he's two. can you just please push the button?"

and he did.

lessons learned:
1. don't try and buy mini-cheese at Kroger
2. scope out the scene at self-checkout before starting the whole process
3. volunteer to let William accompany (for a whole day) any teenager who works at a grocery store in order to provide mother-of-toddler sensitivity training