Just back from Trader Joe's

"OK, honey, we're home!"

"Homey, homey." She doesn't move.

"Violet, are you ready to get out?"

"NO! No go in house."

"Honey, it's lunchtime. I have turkey meatloaf and that risotto from last night. And nectarines. And green grapes. Lunch is going to be delicious. Let's go on in and eat."

"No! NOOOOOO! No leave car!" A fusillade of kicks on the back of my seat. Her screaming reaches a pitch I am certain will shatter the windshield.

"Violet, I gotta pee. And the freezer foods are melting. And we can't live in the car."

"Yes, yes, live in car!"

"Don't you want to go and see Bobo?"

"NO! No go see Bobo! Live in car! No go 'side."

"Don't you want to see Judith?"

"No!"

"Rocking horse?"

"No!"

"Your balloon kite?"

"No!"

Somehow I managed to get two bags of freezer-bound groceries (the shelf stuff can stay in the car until Phil gets home, I'm not killing myself), my purse, Pinky, Violet's jacket, her Funtainer water, and screamy ol Violet herself up the street. It took 17 minutes to go not quite a half block, what with having to stop and scream "NO NO NO NO go 'way! Go 'way!" every two steps. Sometimes parenting her is so incredible and I am filled with so much joy, and other times, it feels like I'm trying to pull a schoolbus out of my nose. I am exhausted.