We.Are.Famous. And I'm not so sure that is a good thing.
We're getting to be regulars at a nearby grocery store.
We have our routine.
We've mastered the basket-clipped-to-the-back-of-our-stroller technique and everyone gets a job.
To make it a success, we have to maintain reasonable expectations (note to self), not be on a strict timetable, and be prepared to answer no less than 1000 questions about how many sets of triplets I have.
Oh, and always take advantage of the free cookies.
I never really intended to get locked in to this one store. In fact, it is the one that Cbug made me avoid for a while. But the kiddos and I went there the first time we ventured out alone, we know it works, and we just keep going back.
It makes for a great get-away from the heat and everyone loves being there (weird, I know).
(photo creds to KJ, below)
EVERYONE recognizes us. The managers, the bakery ladies (FOR SURE), the cashiers, and maybe even the nice man who cleans up after shopping casualties (a dozen eggs one trip and a glass jar of garlic the next...oops).
I mean, not that we are conspicuous or anything (smirk).