Shopping List of Things I don't Want

Today is going nowhere. He said some pretty awful things to me, and I'm trying to be realistic and look past those words and just see his hurting heart. He's making everyone around him very, very angry. I wonder if it's his way of making it easier on me to let go of him tomorrow. Or for him to let go of me? I'll never know.

I picked him up right after school. I got the list of things he needed, and out of my sorry heart I just wanted him to be involved in choosing the things he needed to take with him. I didn't want to pack him a bag of all the things I chose and say "see ya". I thought that would be cold and uncaring. My intentions were honorable, but the outcome was terrible.

I took him to the store, I gently told him a few things at a time that we needed to get. Each thing he thought was stupid, and he said so. I asked which items he would prefer, and he didn't care. He said it over and over, just to make his point. He kept walking off, and since we were two towns away, my nerves were completely frazzled at the thought of him walking off and not coming back. I couldn't focus on what he needed and chase him down every other aisle. It was terrible. It was like having a toddler again, only one that was rude.
So... I sent a text to my husband. "Things are terrible here. I am struggling."
He texted back, "I'm done soon, want me to finish up or come now?"
"Now" was all I could say.

It took way too long for him to arrive, but once he did, he located our boy out in front of the store where he was wandering around. Thankfully, he just stayed there, while I finished checking off things on the extremely long list. The boy needed nearly complete wardrobe overhaul. Nothing with band logos. Well, that was nearly half of what he wore. No Jeans. Well, there's the other half. No polyester, plain, no logos, no pockets, no buttons, no strings.... Good grief. At one point, I sat down on a bench in the shoe department, because I couldn't find a pair of tennis shoes that had a grippy sole. Only the cheap plastic feeling kind, and all I could picture was him trying to participate in PE, and slipping on the floor and feeling embarassed because he was wearing crappy shoes that I had to pick out for him. I cried.

Then the hygiene products. Nothing with alcohol in it. Not too hard, unless you use conditioner. Or certain kinds of shaving cream, I learned. The socks. What color? Black or white? "I don't care". Fine, I got ten pairs of grey. I smirked at that one. Take that! Then I felt that icky guilt feeling again. I should be kind. I should care, but this kid has put me through so much! I wanted to just say forget it and buy all grey stuff. But I pushed on. I left with a cart full of cheap clothes that I wouldn't care if he threw away some day. I guess that was the objective. It's sort of like maternity clothes. You have to wear the same stuff for so long that you don't care if it gets tossed when the intended purpose is over with.

Hopefully someday soon, he can wear his band logo shirts again. And his button down fleece. And the boy really does look better in jeans than those three pairs of sweatpants. One of which had a pocket on the back - I hope nobody notices.