Over the years, grocery shopping has become my little pocket of quiet time.

As the kids have gotten older, hardly anyone ever wants to go with me. I enjoy planning out meals for the week, checking staples, making a list and then checking everything off as I go through the aisle. It’s just about the only area of my life that feels organized.

It’s also a time when I can get creative and try new fruits, vegetables or brands. There is also something so comforting about knowing that I’m buying the ingredients to make a favorite meal that will be one of the few times in a week that we all sit down together and are in a good mood.

It’s funny how this has evolved over the years. When the kids were very little, bundling them up into their car seats and escaping to the grocery store was sometimes the only interaction that I had with other adults.

Since the kids usually fell asleep on the way to the store, and bucket car seats made the transfer easy, I was also wasting my own nap time, and by the time we got home and unpacked everything, they were well-rested, and I was ready to crash.

Between rushing to get everything done, and mommy brain, every trip to the store invariably missed a few items, no matter how many times I checked my list.

Then, we transitioned to the toddler years. This was pure hell. Right off the bat, everyone insisted that we get the “firetruck” or the “race truck” shopping cart. Then, five minutes later, it was abandoned, and I was left to push the unwieldy cart with the smaller than average basket through the rest of the store.

Most of my shopping trip was spent trying to take out the items that the little imps would grab off the shelf and throw in the cart when I wasn’t looking. Even so, a box of sugary cereal or a bag of candy would usually still make its way to the checkout counter.

As they got a little older, they started to recognize ingredients and disliked foods, and the whining started early.

One would complain about lasagna, another would proclaim lasagna their favorite food ever and a battle royale would break out in the dairy aisle. Every parent out there has experienced this nightmare.

The screaming starts and it can’t be stopped. It can’t be bribed, cajoled or gagged. It always happens when you have a full cart of groceries and can’t consider just abandoning it to run out in shame. So, you grin and bear it and apologize to everyone around you, most of whom are parents who have felt that pain.

Then, all of a sudden, one day, the kids were in one hundred different activities, and my grocery trips slotted in neatly between drop-off and pickup. Freedom was mine. It was a little weird at first. I kept thinking I forgot someone somewhere. I found myself randomly responding to any random “mom” scream.

It took a while to get used to it, but eventually, I found my rhythm. From the time to select the perfect fruit to packing my reusable bags, I was the queen of my kingdom.

Lately, my favorite grocery store has opened a branch of my “treat” coffee shop, and this has added another level of enjoyment to my weekly trip. Sometimes, I pick up my favorite cup of tea before I start shopping and sip it as I go along, sometimes I wait until I’m finished and then steal five minutes to sit in my car and read while I sip. This is truly the height of mom bliss.

So why am I reminiscing about the halcyon days of grocery shopping? Last week, I had an interloper on my weekly trip. I miscalculated a drop-off time and A ended up in the car with me as I headed to the store. Lately, he’s opted to wait in the car rather than drag himself around a boring old grocery store, so I was surprised when he volunteered to come in and help.

As we strolled through the produce aisle, he offered some opinions and asked for some new choices for his lunch box. Apparently, the bananas I’ve been packing have been a little too ripe and they get pretty bruised up by lunch time.

As we headed down the snack aisle, he also offered his opinion on some new items, and asked me to stop packing some “old favorites.” Pretty soon, I stuffed my list in my pocket and started asking him for more opinions on what I should make for dinner and what staples I should change out.

As we headed down to the paper and cleaning supply aisle, I sent him off to pick up the brands and packages we always use, and he complied, while I zipped through the rest of the grocery aisles. When we met up at the registers, I was surprised to see that our trip had taken about a third less time than it usually does. With more than a few minutes to spare before we headed back to pick up A, I offered to treat to him to something at the coffee shop.

We headed back to the car, and he surprised me even more by saying, “this was fun.” Even having him acknowledge my existence seems like a small miracle these teenage days. For him to admit that he almost, maybe, a tiny bit enjoyed hanging out with me was a true gift. When I asked him if this was going to be a new thing we did together, I got the appropriate eye roll and sigh, and he went back to texting his friends and we went back to the status quo.

Now I’m wondering how many times I can strategically grocery shop when A is with me before he figures out that I’m just looking for an excuse to spend some quality time with him in a place that makes us both happy.

Maybe the next time we go, I’ll pull out that clunky old firetruck cart just for nostalgia’s sake.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.