Welcome to Pottersville: Population me

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Yesterday was a long day filled with many screaming children (well, ok, technically just two but it seemed like many more) so when Nick got home I told him I needed to tap out and spend some time alone at Target.

I needed to get a lamp shade, notebook, baby wipes and vodka. Before you go getting all judgey-judgey the baby wipes weren't even for me.

Anyhoo, I stepped out of my car in the parking lot and heard the woman next to me yelling "I ain't EVEN done yet! I ain't EVEN done yet!" over and over to her son as she opened the back door and pointed for him to get in.

Stuff like this is like fingernails down a chalkboard to me. I mean, TURKEYS are done - PEOPLE are finished. Doesn't she know anything about grammar? And don't even get me started on ain't.

But I resisted the urge to correct her because she looked very preoccupied with slinging verbal insults at her poor son.

Then a few cars up I saw a woman putting her younger baby in the back seat of her mini van as she yelled to the older girl standing on the other side "NOW DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT MOVING! YOU KEEP YOUR ASS RIGHT THERE!

Ok.

Finally, the cherry on this sundae of festive holiday cheer was as I was walking inside and there was a typical teenage boy (hood, dirt lip - you know the type) standing there with his head down as his father yelled "... WELL THIS ISN'T ABOUT YOU. THIS IS ABOUT MOM. AND YOU NEED TO STOP BEING A LITTLE PRICK..."

Well then. Fa la fucking la.

I don't have any more specific examples but all throughout the store it felt like I had been transported to Pottersville. I tried to stay oblivious to the negativity as I floated on a billowy cloud of childless bliss, lingering in aisles I don't even get to go into any more like the deodorant.

But there were people huffing here, shoving ahead there - am I the only one noticing this?

On a lighter note, I saw a guy drop a piano on his foot yesterday. Wow, that was a pun and a sort of relative oxymoron all wrapped up into one nice little package.

Anyhoo, it was sort of my fault. I was walking out of a strip mall craft store, Ellie in one arm, Lila in her heavy ass car seat in the other, and he was moving a piano into the business next door. Of course man moving piano has the right of way so I stepped aside and let him go first up the little walk way. It was freezing so once he was up I squeezed in behind him and he sort of turned to look at me and lost his footing and down it came.

I thought stuff like that only happened in cartoons.

What's the proper etiquette when you may or may not be partially responsible for someone dropping a piano on their foot and you're holding two heavy ass kids in the freezing cold?

If you said put your head down and ignore his screams as you make a break for your car, then I hit it spot on.

Over and out.

5 comments:

Brittney said...

LOL yes I think I would have acted in the same way, head down bee line to the car. Ha!
Oh you have to love the many different parenting skills in public! I once heard a man tell his son "I'm the HMFIC and there is nothing you can do about it" Oh he didn't leave me wondering what that meant for long.. he was the head MF-er in charge. Nice, at the playground, Nice. Haha

Lisa said...

Not to be a grinch the I LOATHE Christmas. I hate it more each year it passes. I stay away from stores as much possible because it just brings out the DOUCHEBAG in so many people. (And I guess since I'm writing a comment about how much I hate Christmas, it brings out the douchebag in me too.)

I've been one of those people that have gotten snippy with my child in Target during the holidays. If the two moms you encountered were like me that build up was a product of many factors: 1.) constant whining of the child, ("Can I have this? Can I have that? I want candy. Why can't I have this? I'm thirsty for a soda. I'm still hungry for candy. I have a headache. I wanna go home.") 2.) lack of sleep and 3.) a huge to-do list 4.) guilt/pressure from family, and 5.) a spouse who has time to spend at least 6 hours at a bar and 20+ hours on a couch each week but "is too busy" to clean up after himself or help you out for 20 minutes. You morph into something you don't want to be. And the child pays the price. And it sucks.

But at the same time, I can't imagine calling my son a "prick" or any thing negative. NOT cool.

Imma dork. But glad to hear the trip didn't bring you down. Life is too short for that. :-)

Kari said...

Ha, ha just wait! Your kids don't talk yet... As the mother of a 13 year old boy I laugh!

Jessica said...

Oops, I think I tweeted you a big fat AIN'T the other day. hahhaha. Sorry about that. Yes, the shopping escapades are always an eyeopening experience. Did you read my tweet about mine the other day? I forgot to throw in there how everyone was scowling at me from behind their steering wheels. Tis the Season....to be assholes, I guess.

Hannah said...

You know, as dense as it makes me sound I didn't realize that all three of the parking lot incidents involved kids. Note to self: never tell kids that Christmas exists.