Depending on the Kindness of ... Well, Anyone Who Offers

I am at the grocery store with all four kids. Patrick and I are each pushing a shopping cart. I have Jocelyn and Michael with me and Patrick has William. Patrick is set on steering without assistance, so I keep my distance and watch him weave William through the aisles, stepping in only when store inventory is in danger. Jocelyn and Michael are busy making each other laugh. William is watching Patrick. And I am trying to remember the 3 things I came into the store to buy.

I just barely feel like I am getting into the swing of things when Patrick announces that he needs to pee. Luckily, Patrick is old enough that I know I have a few minutes to find a washroom, but I still panic a little.

I think to myself, "Okay Kate, deep breath. First, find a staff member and ask directions." There is an employee just in front of me in the aisle. Great. "Excuse me, but where is the washroom?" "Upstairs." She goes on to give me directions, but I stopped hearing her after "upstairs." I can feel myself drawing a mental blank, failing to solve the problem of four children under 6, two shopping carts, stairs, a washroom and a child who needs to pee. I can just feel the fog clearing enough for me to ask about an elevator, when I become aware that a person in the aisle is approaching. I have almost realized that I can take William out of the still empty shopping cart and create a more manageable scenario, when a woman about my age approaches me. I recognize her. Not more than 5 minutes ago, I saw her and she made an endearing comment about me and the kids. I get a lot of comments, but I remember the people who say things that touch me. She had made a good one. "Can I help?" she asks.

I am still in the mental fog, so I simply say, "I'm trying to get him to the washroom," and point at Patrick. She nods and says, "Would you like me to watch the little ones while you take him? I'll just keep them here and entertain them." I look at her and make a snap judgment that I can trust her. "That sure would help," I say. As she steps over to smile at William, Patrick takes off for the stairs. As I reach the tops of the stairs, I realize that if I trust Patrick to go to the Men's room by himself, I can stand outside the door and look out over the balcony and wave to my 3 other kids. I choose to do this. I am not in control but I feel good about how I am managing my risks.

I send Patrick off to the washroom and turn to wave down to the aisle below. The woman watching the little ones has moved the carts so that all of the kids were able to watch me and Patrick and they are now all looking up at me and smiling. Patrick is quick and we bound back down to rejoin the family.

"Bless you," I say to the woman and my heart swells with relief and gratitude.

As we move off down the aisle to continue shopping, Patrick takes over pushing William's cart. She asks me how old Patrick is. When I say, "5," she says to Patrick, "You are a great helper." She follows up with a comment that implies that her 6 year-old son isn't always such a help. As she says this, I realize that Patrick is, indeed, a great helper. And so, of course, is she. On that day, I needed both of them.