The worst thing about food shopping isn’t the prices, the indecision, or even the hordes of people Yixing would really rather avoid – no, it is undoubtedly, the fact that Jongseok and trolleys are a combination that would inspire fear in even the most stoic of parents.

For the moment, they’re safe –Shang is clutching his little brother’s hand as Yixing buckles Sunhwa into the child seat at the front of the trolley. She’s whining, mostly because she’s hungry, but also because she wants to toddle on her own and hold her brother’s hand. Yixing considered it – because she’s nearly two and he should really be letting her walk as much as she can so she strengthens her legs, but then he remembered the last time she was let loose in a supermarket and decided against it.

They’d been extremely lucky that the manager had been so good about it all, really. Just a shame they wouldn’t be able to show their faces in that Sainsbury’s for a while, especially seeing as it was so close…but what can you do? Not let Jongseok run wild, for sure.

“Sunhwa, stop wriggling.” He says, exasperated. He’s tired, hungry and ready to collapse – he had his advanced dancing class in today, and while it was great that he got the rest of the day off, it didn’t mean he was through for the day. Far from it. “Daddy has to go shopping, and you’re not allowed to walk by yourself. You know that.”

“No!” Sunhwa slams the stuffed bear she’s been surgically attached to since the day she was born against the bar, tiny brows drawn in the angriest expression a toddler can produce. “NO!” She screams, pushing Yixing away with tiny hands when he tries to comfort her. She’s clearly overtired, but it wasn’t like he could just leave her at home – Jongdae’s at work, and Kyungmi and Joonmyun are too. And babysitters are out of the question, what with – well, it’s best not to think about that.

“Fine,” he sighs, throwing his hands up in despair. “Fine. You can just be mean to daddy.” There’s a headache threatening to explode behind his eyes, and he’s really not sure when he started to refer to himself as daddy but he’s been doing it for years and it weirds him out every time he does it. Since when did he become so responsible?

He stalks forward, pushing the trolley with force fuelled by the desperate need to get this shopping done and done fast; he calls to the boys immediately, because he doesn’t trust them not to run riot in the car park, and he can’t have Shang ‘decorating’ another stranger’s car with smileys. They can’t afford to pay for repairs to their own car right now, let alone some irate stranger’s. “Come on, boys. Let’s get this done.” He sets his mouth in a grim line as they cross the blindingly bright threshold of Tesco.

Right. He can do this. He can totally do this – oh god, is Jongseok trying to climb the display of pumpkins?

***

One minor fiasco averted – Shang was a responsible big brother and pulled Jongseok away before he could get up the second tier – he drags them up the travelator. Yixing is thankful to have at least one semi-normal child, even if Shang has lately taken to only wearing clothes with skulls on them. Oh well. It’s probably just a phase. Normal kids have those too, right?

Sunhwa is still grumpy, her face screwed up in anger and screeching ‘No!’ every time Yixing attempts to hold her. She’s taken to throwing Blue Bear out of the trolley at regular intervals, but Yixing is used to that – every time he takes her out in her pushchair, she always picks her moments – usually just as they’re halfway across the road, surrounded by cars on either side and speeding pedestrians unamused by a hyperactive toddler trying to ruin their morning commute. The amount of times he’s had to pick the damn thing up outnumber the actual moments in which she’s holding him.

But if he were to leave Blue Bear, she’d never forgive him. As much as he’s her favourite punching bag, she needs him to sleep. And the idea of Sunhwa refusing to sleep makes his blood run cold.

“Shang, could you talk to your sister, please?” He asks tiredly, knowing that if anyone will get his daughter to stop repeating the word no over and over again, it’s her beloved elder brother. Honestly, the only person she really seems to like is Shang; it’s kind of hurtful – scratch that, extremely hurtful – but he’s too exhausted to deal with it today. It’s far easier to let Shang work his magic while he enacts damage control on Jongseok.

“Sure.” Shang gives a casual shrug. “She likes me better than you, anyway.”

Yixing doesn’t even react as his nine year old son shoulders him aside like some cocky teenager; his mantra for tonight has become I’ll deal with this later. Instead, he hoists Jongseok up into his arms, muttering apologies to the confused woman he’d been making monkey faces at.

“Daddy!” Jongseok throws his arms around Yixing’s neck happily. “I love you as much as…dinosaurs!”

Well, that was unexpected. If a little heartening. Jongseok may be the most unmanageable of all of his children, but he’s probably the most sweet-natured; he’s just incredibly…well, there’s not actually a word to describe Jongseok. ‘Little terror’ is probably the closest description. “I love you too, sweetheart.” He says, shifting Jongseok upwards so that he can support his bottom. “I love you even more than dinosaurs.” He taps Jongseok’s nose, giving him a wink as he holds him with one hand.

Shang, meanwhile, has taken possession of the trolley and is whizzing off the travelator in a zigzag formation, towards the clothing aisles, Sunhwa laughing maniacally as he goes.

. He sprints towards them, narrowly avoiding crashing into a clothes rail as he goes.

They better not run into an old lady again.

***

He’s severely out of breath by the time he catches up with them; he’s not sure he’s ever run so fast in his life, and what with the fact his muscles are strung out from dancing all day, he’s not in the best condition. Jongseok is struggling to be let down, upset that he didn’t get to join in the fun – sometimes, he’s victim of the classic middle child syndrome, and although Yixing and Jongdae know Shang doesn’t mean it, he does have a tendency of leaving his little brother out of his baby sister’s games.

“Shang, what have I said about this – Jongseok, stop wriggling! – running around with the trolley like that is dangerous! What if you’d hurt someone – what if you’d hurt your sister?” He lets Jongseok go impatiently, chastising Shang being the more important task at hand. “You’re the eldest, you’ve got to set an example!”

Shang’s mouth sets in a mutinous pout, his narrowed eyes warning Yixing of the sulky strop ahead. “Whatever, dad. You wanted me to stop Sunhwa  crying, so I did.” He folds his arms defensively, chin tilted up in defiance. “Nothing happened. Stop being so about it.”

Yixing is torn between the desire to laugh at the use of the word – he may be a parent, but it doesn’t mean he’s a grown-up – and the need to reprimand his son for his rudeness. “I swear to god – Shang, that is not the way to cheer your sister up! You could have hurt people! You’re lucky a member of staff didn’t stop you – do you want to be banned from yet another supermarket? I don’t. Because I actually kind of like to eat.”

The boy rolls his eyes, unimpressed by his father’s anger. “I don’t care.” He snorts, turning on his heel to storm off in the direction of the DVDs. The message is clear: he refuses to be scolded, and will be off sulking until he sees fit to come back (probably when he finds some strange movie he has to buy – Yixing groans internally because he knows he’s tired enough to give in and they just don’t have the money for this ).

He lets him go because this happens on a regular basis; Shang may seem older than nine most of the time, but he’s still a child. Tantrums are normal.

Sunhwa leans out of the trolley, whimpering pathetically as she reaches forward for her elder brother. "No.” She looks at Yixing expectantly, as if he can magically drag her brother back to her. “Back?” She asks hopefully.

Yixing shakes his head. “Not right now.” In the hopes of avoiding another screaming fit, he gives her Blue Bear, who’s been sat in the seat next to her since she decided to stop playing kamikaze teddy bears with him. She takes him immediately, on his ratty ear contentedly. Yixing’s not sure what’s inspired this complete mood change, but he’s not going to complain.

He takes control of the trolley once more, intending to push them towards the bath and bedroom section – they’re in desperate need of new towels and toilet paper after Jongseok destroyed them in his ‘Let’s turn Sunhwa into a Mummy like on Horrible Histories’ game. He should have known letting Jongseok watch that was a bad idea.

“Right, let’s just get your brother and we can finally get started on shopping. Jongseok, are you – Jongseok?”

It’s at this point that Yixing realises that his youngest son is nowhere to be seen. ing hell – not another one!

***

He finds Jongseok in the toy aisle, happily smashing two (massive – dear god, if he’s damaged them they’re going to have to pay, and ,  Yixing’s not sure he’s got enough money in his bank account to pay for that and food) toy trucks together and making vroom-vroom noises. He’s just causing a miniature explosion – with sound effects, of course – when he notices his father standing there with a furious look on his face.

He smiles happily up at him. “Daddy, can we buy them? I want to play monster trucks at home too!”

Yixing pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing heavily and praying to a God he doesn’t really believe in to give him the patience to deal with his children, one of whom he’s already lost in the vast confines of the supermarket. “No. We can’t.” He lets out a long, low breath in the hopes that it will help the raging headache that’s only got worse since he set foot in this supermarket. “Put them down and come help me with the shopping.”

“But daddy – “ His lower lip begins to tremble, a sure sign of an oncoming fit. Please, no –

“I said no,” Yixing repeats gently, the threat in his words obvious, even as he tries to keep his calm. “Jongseok, put them down right now.”

Little brows draw forward in an instantly recognisable angry face. Yixing gulps. “Don’t wanna!” He throws himself over the trucks, clutching them to him. “Mine!”

Yixing's grip on the handle of the trolley is so tight he’s surprised there isn’t an imprint of his fingers on it. “Jongseok, you put them back right now, or I swear to god, I will lose my temper.” Sunhwa stops gumming on her teddy bear to look up at her father worriedly. Jongseok stares back at Yixing with the same defiant look Shang gave him earlier.

He almost feels like screaming – how did they manage to raise such disobedient children?

“No!” Jongseok is shouting and Yixing’s head is thumping with a dull ache he’s not going to get rid of any time soon. He swallows, because he really – really – does not want to yell right back at Jongseok, but it’s getting to that point and if he’s any naughtier he’s going to lose it –  “Buy me them! I want the trucks!”

That’s it – he snaps. “Kim Jongseok, I did not raise you to be such a brat! Get up right now. I mean it. Right now.” He bites the words out, attempting to keep his voice down because it’s a supermarket for crying out loud. “Jongseok.” He says warningly. “Now.”

Jongseok shakes his head, and for a second, Yixing could actually swear he sees red. He refuses to give into the urge to scream like the child his son actually is, and so – dragging the small boy upwards, kicking and screaming – he places him inside of the trolley so that he can put the toys back in their rightful places.

Thank god they’re not damaged.

“I hate you!” Jongseok fumes from inside the metal bars of his temporary prison. “You’re the worst dad ever!”

Yixing just rolls his eyes and shoves the trolley forward; because sometimes, you just have to push through it.

Even if the words break his heart just that tiniest bit.

***

Getting through the shopping goes relatively smoothly after that – well, as smoothly as having two screeching children can be (it was to be expected that Jongseok would set his sister off). He has the towels and toilet paper, more nappies – the special kind for bed-wetters, because Jongseok has yet to master getting up and going to the toilet yet – and is now cruising through the food aisles.

Shang has yet to turn up, but he’s seen him hovering behind them out of the corner of his eye a couple of times. And if he doesn’t come forward before the shopping is done, then he’s just going to go to the service desk and ask them to make an announcement over the tannoy system – the sheer embarrassment alone will force him to appear.

Sadly, Yixing has all too much practice in this. At least Jongseok’s screaming has toned down a bit – he’s been taken out of the trolley and is sulkily clinging onto the side of it instead of Yixing’s hand. He supposes he should ask him to come down, as it’s probably dangerous for him to be riding on the side of it, but he’s wary of incurring any more of Jongseok’s wrath.

So he leaves his little daredevil to his games and breathes a sigh of relief every time they don’t crash into someone. Jongseok hops down as soon as they reach the sweetie aisle, silently walking over to the large bars of chocolate and dumping one in with a look that dares his father to tell him off. He in a breath to ready himself for a scream, but Yixing waves it off.

“Fine.” Jongseok’s mouth begins to quirk back up into a grin. “You can have it, but no eating it all in one go. And you have to share!” He tells him, as he takes a running leap at his father, clinging to his legs. Yixing pats his head awkwardly.

“I don’t hate you now, daddy.” He says, as Yixing struggles to walk forward with him attached to his legs and a heavy trolley to push.

Yixing can only grunt a half-hearted “Good,” but secretly, he can’t deny the feeling of relief.

***

Shang conveniently appears just as Yixing is loading the shopping, a slightly less sulky look on his face and an array of items he knew Yixing would forget. “Thank you.” Yixing says quietly, as he places the last of the shopping in a disorganized mess on the conveyor belt, setting a plastic divider down to partition his shopping from the next customer’s.

His son only nods, lifting Sunhwa out of her seat in the cart. She stops squalling as soon as she’s in her brother’s arms, no matter how clumsily he holds her, a happy smile on her face as she plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He looks up at his father bashfully. “I’m not in trouble for the trolley thing, am I?” Yixing huffs.

“Only if you promise never to do it again.” He says, catching hold of Jongseok before he attempts to launch himself into the side of the trolley. It’s almost a reflex, by now.

Shang nods furiously. “I promise!”

Yixing’s pretty sure it’s a lie, but it’s the best he’s going to get after what has been a mildly hellish trip to the supermarket. He gives his eldest son a strained smile, his grip on Jongseok’s hand tight. “Keep a good hold on her.” He warns, not wanting any more dropping incidents.

When it’s their turn to bag and pay, Yixing sends the kids to sit down in the little benches at the end of the checkout counters, too exhausted to try and convince them to help. He’s a little worried when he slides his card into the reader – what if his debit card is rejected? – but it goes through, though he’s probably into his overdraft by now. He and Jongdae really need to have another talk about their finances, because this is getting nerve-racking.

The cashier gives him a grin, tilting her head towards his children – for once, sat peacefully on the chairs, Sunhwa on Shang’s lap as he and Jongseok play rock-paper-scissors. “Cute kids,” she says. “So well-behaved.”

“Thanks,” he replies faintly, as she hands him his receipt and wishes him a nice night.

She has no idea.

***

Jongdae is waiting with an open door when he eventually pulls into their driveway. The kids tumble out of the car and into their other father’s arms, as Yixing slumps with folded arms over the steering wheel and attempts to find the energy to get out of the car.

He’s so tired that he’s not even sure he can stand up without wobbling, but there are bags of perishable groceries in the boot of the car and he has to make sure the kids are fed, so he straightens up, rolling his neck to remove the kinks out of his back. Jongdae’s ushering the kids in, telling them to stay put as he goes to see just what they’ve done to his partner.

Yixing winds the window down when he comes towards the car. “Rough day?” Jongdae asks, leaning on the windowsill with folded arms. “Were the kids…bad?” He asks cautiously.

Yixing grunts, shrugging thin shoulders. “They’ve been a hell of a lot better. There were a lot of tantrums today.”

“Ah,” Jongdae says, understanding. “Well, I’ll get the bags in. You just…rest for a bit, okay honey?” Yixing can only nod, slumping back over the steering wheel. Jongdae leans in further to press a kiss to the back of his neck.

He can hear the boot opening, and the rustling of plastic bags – he forgot all of the reusable bags they have buried in a cupboard somewhere – but he doesn’t bother to raise his head until he hears Jongdae shut the boot gently and the slamming of the outer porch door.

Dazedly, he stares at his home, not able to face his family just quite yet. How can his kids be so lovable yet so horrifying at the same time?

***

When he stumbles into the house, shutting the front door behind him, he finds the kids ensconced in front of Lilo & Stitch, Sunhwa curled up on the sofa, asleep with her thumb in . He crosses his arms, watching them for a second as Jongseok bounces with laughter at Stitch’s antics, Shang trying to hide his own grin – because, in his own words – he’s too old for stupid Disney movies.

He feels, rather than hears, Jongdae creep up behind him, arms sliding around his waist as he rests his chin on Yixing’s shoulder. “See, they’re cute when they’re all quiet. But when they’re all alert and…hyper,” he gives an exaggerated shiver, laughingly kissing the side of Yixing’s neck – he tilts his head to give him better access – “they’re little terrors.”

“I am dead on my feet.” Yixing yawns, smirking a little when Jongdae lightly nips the skin of his neck with his teeth.

“I can tell.” Jongdae says, letting go of his waist to head back towards the kitchen. “I was thinking,” he pokes his head around the door, bending down to pick the last bag up, “why don’t we order pizza, or something? I doubt either of us are in the mood to cook something.” There’s a guilty look on his face because he knows it’s unhealthy and not the best idea, but he just can’t face the kitchen – it honestly looks like a tsunami hit it. He doesn’t even want to think about where all the water came from.

Yixing nods gratefully. “Please.”

“I’ll go call them.” Jongdae quirks a tired grin, opening the fridge in a fruitless attempt to find space for the milk. The congealed results of one of Jongseok’s ‘experiments’ prevent him, however, and so he slams the door shut instead. The smell alone is enough to make him back away. “Yeah. Um. I’ll sort this mess out after I’ve called them.” He eyes the fridge warily, wondering just what the hell Jongseok has concocted to produce whatever that was. “You go sit down.”

Yixing doesn’t need to be told twice.

I'll leave you to guess which things my family have done.