Please don’t deprive mums of the joy of midnight shopping

Charlotte Cripps, The Independent

As a mum with two young daughters, I enjoy grocery shopping in the dead of night. I love the feeling of slamming the front door shut behind me — maybe around 10pm — and escaping alone into the dark with my shopping list. It saves me from having to do the weekly food shop during hectic peak periods or working hours — or worse, with the children in tow — and it gives me a little “me” time.

When you think about it, the philosophy is really no different from being a member of the elite 5am club like Mark Zuckerberg, Jennifer Lopez and Michelle Obama, who claim that getting up before everybody else is the answer to health and happiness. The only difference for ordinary mums like me is that our secret weapon is shopping at the supermarket after sunset when the store is pretty much empty. But now that secret weapon is under threat.

In a now viral tweet, a customer known as @PetulantWench shared how she, too, relishes “midnight hour” shopping, and raged at the new car-parking rules that have come into force at her local Tesco supermarket in Ryde, Isle of Wight — calling them discriminatory to parents.

A photograph of the new car park sign reveals a maximum stay limit for late-night shoppers of only one hour between 8pm and midnight (when she likes to shop), compared with the three hours allowed for daytime customers, and only 30 minutes for those parking between midnight and 6am, when the store is closed.

“Hey @Tesco I do my shopping at night so I can wander round without my kids and buy nice things that I can hide and eat by myself. It’s a couple of hours by myself once a week. This new policy sucks,” she wrote. “I know to a lot of people this probably seems petty and not a big deal, but to anyone who either has kids or works weird hours and has to shop in the evening, or for anyone neurodivergent it’s absolutely not okay.”

And, well, I just pray that my local Tesco, on the Cromwell Road in Kensington, doesn’t slash maximum waiting times too (it’s currently only 1.5 hours during opening hours, which is already limiting enough). Who on earth wants to take their children with them to a busy supermarket? I’ve done my fair share of sticking my younger daughter Liberty, 6, in the child seat of the massive shopping trolley, with Lola, 8, buried at the front under Petit Filous. Enough is enough.

If they are not trapped in the trolley, they run off in different directions asking me to buy them extortionately priced children’s magazines with “cute gifts” like rainbow unicorns (which are all around a fiver) — or else demand the vegetarian cocktail sausages and breadsticks before we’ve even reached the checkout. They always need the bathroom mid-shop — or have an epic meltdown because they are bored. That’s why I like to shop on my own. Tesco is like my sanctuary when others are asleep — and the idea of having a timer ticking away while I shop is anything but relaxing.

The reason for these changes? According to the company, it’s to crack down on “antisocial behaviour” at night. “It is important to us that all our customers can find a space when they visit our stores and, where we have parking limits in place, this is to allow us to better manage spaces, and to deter antisocial behaviour in the car park at night, especially outside of opening hours,” a spokesperson told The Independent.

They also mentioned that if a customer does need some extra time shopping, they can speak to colleagues in store. But to be honest, it’s hard enough to find a shop assistant to show me where the dishwasher capsules are, let alone save me from a £70 parking fine for overstaying in the car park.

Why should parents be penalised for shopping outside of normal hours? The shorter maximum stays are not being rolled out across Tesco, but vary depending on location — with some Tesco car parks operated by outside management companies. But where and when the parking rules do change, they give little thought to mums like me.

Hanging out in Tesco late at night, ruminating over whether to buy a mop refill, might sound like a boring night out, but for me and many other mums it’s a chance to dial down and recharge, not just about buying essentials. It’s better than doing an online order, because by the time I get round to doing it — and wait for the delivery slot — the fridge is empty. And anyway, I forget things and need to restock.

Without the children, I can waltz around the supermarket choosing things I might actually want to eat, rather than ending up drowning in items from the Halloween aisles. I treat myself to a salmon and cream-cheese sandwich while driving home at midnight after my whopper weekly shop, and have the added security of knowing I can hide the chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream in the freezer when I get home, without Lola and Liberty spotting it.

Parents need a break from rushing around — even if it’s just to aisle three.