I had to hit the grocery store tonight. I needed a few things that couldn't wait. I rushed through the store, checked off one thing after the next on my list, and headed for the checkout as soon as I could. I was already home, all my groceries unpacked, kids in bed, and ready to sit down with a cup of tea for the first time today.
The checkout clerk brought me back to my reality by asking me where my baby was. I didn't connect the dots first, but quickly realized that he was referring to the 10 jars of baby banana puree he was scanning. 10 jars for $10. A good price to stock up on a baby favorite.
"At home", I said. I was in no mood to start telling this young man why I am stocking up on banana puree every week. That "my baby" is almost seven years old, and lives with a mitochondrial disorder. That my baby has no idea how banana puree tastes. That the only reason I am stocking up on banana puree is that it prevents diarrhea. That each jar is adding 70 calories to Jacob's diet each day. That if Jacob doesn't get his bananas on a daily basis, his potassium drops to an insane low level that prompts his doctors to call me directly on my cell phone. Tonight, I just didn't want to reveal my story behind the jars of banana puree.
My checkout clerk liked my answer, and wanted to know more. How old is your baby? I was still not interested in talking potassium and diarrhea, so the answer "1 year old" came over my lips. I surprised myself by how easily it came over my lips. The checkout clerk got even more excited, since his baby also is one year old, and to top if off loves banana puree!
I started to feel bad...but it was too late to back peddle. It was too late to tell the truth. The baby talk was in full swing! The checkout clerk didn't need any more input from me. He had his own story to share. I know there are many worse lies than what just happened at King Soopers tonight, but I did feel bad. I felt bad because I have promised myself to always stand up for Jacob. To never make any excuses. The simple truth was that I wasn't up for a mitochondrial chat tonight. It you don't know me, you feel sorry for me when I tell you about Jacob, and that is just not how I feel about my sweet boy.
But when the checkout clerk went on to praise me for being the only person who makes my own homemade pasta sauce any longer, I had to stop him. I always get my marinara sauce from a jar. In addition to the many jars of banana puree, I did have many cans of tomato sauce, tomato paste, stewed tomatoes, and kidney beans - they are all going to stew in my crockpot tomorrow. So, I told him the truth about my cocking, but I did leave out the part that the chili is going to two Mitochondrial families who are spending the week at Children's Hospital with their sick kiddos. Some conversations are just not meant for the checkout at King Soopers on a Tuesday night.
Cheers! - Maria.