I don’t know what it is about taking the girls to the local discount store, but somehow it’s like entering the Twilight Zone or something. The shopping part usually goes smoothly. All the trouble starts at the check-out. I put the items on the belt, and the drama started. Simone picked up a magazine she can’t read, and Nadia clutched a bag of candy. I figured I’d deal with the oldest first. I told Simone to put it back. When she wouldn’t let go, I did what any self-respecting mom would do. I took it from her. Nadia minds a bit better and put her candy back on the shelf when told to do so. Simone, though, wasn’t finished. Just as a hush fell over the check-out lanes, she said: “You’re a bad mommy!” There was a pause, and she said it again. Just for emphasis, she said it a third time. A woman one lane over replied: “You’re not the first mommy to hear that.” The male cashier snickered. So, there you have it. My name is Monique , and I am a bad mommy. Next!