Last week after three of us (Adam, my father and I) put all the kids to bed, Adam and I decided to go for a walk. It was a beautiful summer night and a great time to catch up with each other and get some errands done.

When you have four kids, everything in your life is multitasked. Walk with husband + Errands. Cooking + Laundry. Breast feeding + Pooping. The combinations are endless.

We walked over to CVS. While waiting in line to purchase our goods, we talked about Ben’s progress with potty training. So far still pooping everywhere but the potty. Though it’s getting better. Yesterday he pooped on the rug in front of the TV, then made it in the potty later, then again in his overnight diaper the minute I put it on. Anyway, this particular evening I think that day he pooped in his underwear, then stuck his hands in it while I watched helplessly from the couch, a baby attached to my breast.

The check out girl heard us talking and started telling stories of her own. Her nephew and how bad he was, how hard it is having a kid.

“How many kids do you have?” She wanted to know.

“Four”. We replied as we placed out goods on the counter to pay.

She was flabbergasted. But all of a sudden the stuff we were purchasing made perfect sense. We handed over a large pack of condoms and three boxes of ear plugs.