A boy and his grits

So we got home from our whirlwind trip 3 days ago and life has not really had a chance to go back to normal. I had to work the next day, which means driving an hour and a half and working a 12 hour shift, and then driving an hour and a half home (don't feel bad for me, I love it). Then yesterday, when leaving church, my car wouldn't start. Ryan, sitting in the back seat, yells out, "We need gas mom!" I bust out laughing, but actually the battery was dead. My ever capable friend Alicia was there to help me connect the jumper cables and get my car going again, but as soon as I got home, the car died again. We got it fixed last night, so all is well again.....but, it has now been three days since we got home and we still had not made it to the grocery store. Which brings me to the grits. I just threw some clothes on this morning and put Ryan in the car in his fleece one piece footie pajamas so that we could take Brandon to school (car line is a beautiful thing, the teachers come get the kids, so I never have to get out). Well, Ryan decided he could not go one more minute without grits and milk and throws a huge tantrum about needing gritsies (my friend Laurie started that one). I asked if we could go home so that I could at least put a bra on and dress him before going to the Kroger, but he could not be persuaded. So I took the chance of seeing someone I knew with my hair in 100 different directions and my son in footie pjs and went into the store. We didn't do a very good job of going incognito as Ryan hopped out of the cart every chance he got to tell me "I have great idea, mom" and pick up something else off the shelf (did I mention he was wearing footie pajamas?) Anyway, we finally made it to the grits aisle, and he held them until we checked out. Proud that I had done something to make my son so happy, we rush home to the make the grits. Only when we get inside the house, I ask Ryan if he wants his grits, his response "I not like grits." His desperation for grits had been trumped by his desire for the jello that I also bought at the grocery store. Oh well, he ate some grits about an hour later, and now I have milk and bread, so I guess "mission accomplished?"