Friday, May 28, 2010

Winning Friends, Influencing People.

So I'm in Sprawl-Mart the other day, and I have (foolishly) brought all three kids with me.  Little Dude is in the cart, and the Hurricane and the Princess are shoving each other and myself, fighting over who is going to push the cart.  I bark out, loudly, "You guys! STOP! I can't push the cart like this, so both of you move out of the way!" and who do I hear calling out to my son? His beloved preschool teacher.  Yeah, it was awkward.  All I could do was slap a big fake-ass smile on my face and pretend I hadn't just yelled at my kids in the middle of the store.

Later that day, after soccer had ended, I stopped at the store to get Hot Stuff some cigarettes.  Since I only had the Hurricane, he came into the store with me.  As I am standing at the till, waiting for the debit to finish, I hear a voice call out to my son!! Yes!! The Hurricane's beloved preschool teacher!! As I am buying cigarettes!! In front of my kid!! So we must chat!! And it's uncomfortable!! I feel the need to make the lame-ass excuse of, "Oh these? These aren't for me!" because that excuse is Highly Believable.

Sidenote: While we were in the Big Chain Store, my Princess decided to throw a whopper in the toy section because I wouldn't let her hang around and stare at the baby dolls all day, nor would I buy her one.  (I should probably mention that we were well past nap time before we even went in the door.) By the time we had doubled back to the laundry aisle, she had ramped up the tantrum intensity from Extreme to I'm Going Nuclear, Motherf*ckers, So Watch Out.  I gave her a choice: knock off the crap and walk nicely, or she was going in the cart.  She loudly and vehemently refused both choices, so I carried her like a football from one end of the laundry aisle to the other and stuck her in the cart.  Yes, she kicked and screamed and carried on the whole time.  I just let her go on about her business, because it takes a lot more than a bunch of noise to embarrass this mama. As I am wrangling her into the cart and trying at the same time to place her so she doesn't smash my bag of white cheddar popcorn (Mmmmm), some lady - a total stranger - says to me, "Well, looks like someone needs to spend some time at my house," in this smirky, superior tone.  Really? Really, lady? Let me guess: your children would never behave like this, because you would never allow it.  You would have spanked them and that would have smartened them right up, I'm sure.  Perhaps she has some secret child-beating technique that I am unaware of? Am I supposed wallop my kid for being tired, and that is somehow going to make her stop crying, instead of making her cry harder? Maybe I should have just given my child to this self-proclaimed Toddler Whisperer? At least I was able to give the woman the opportunity to congratulate herself on what a great job she did raising her children compared to the mothers of today.

Some people.


  1. Maybe this will help you feel better:

    When David (20, incredibly delightfully responsible 20 yr old Engineering student, seriously, who wouldn't want to marry this guy, he's fantastic and can even COOK!) was 4, he pitched a fit in the store and Terry said "ok buddy..." and David said Loudly "No Daddy No! Please don't hit me Daddy, I promise I'll be good, just don't hit me any more!"

    Terry never spanked the kids...ever. AND David's Sunday school teacher was just up the aisle. We changed churches right after that.

    Kids are brats, and that sanctimonious twat needs a bitch slap.

  2. I remember once when one of mine were throwing a heebiejeebie tantrum in the grocery store, an old man actually offered me his cane. It took all my willpower not to ask him where he'd like me to stick it.

  3. Maybe she meant YOU need to spend some time at her house because she makes the BEST blender drinks... Just a thought. (Even if she didn't, that would be a great retort: "YES! That would be Awesome! I'll be over in 20!" No, I wouldn't have thought of it on the spot, either.)

    I've spent plenty of time on that end of a tantrum, but as someone (all to rarely) on the OTHER end of that nightmare (the observer with (temporarily) no kids), I'd rather see a mom/dad ignoring (or football holding) a screamer than the one who caves with "FINE. Here's a Kit Kat. Just shut up!"

  4. Comments like Stranger Lady's can make me "Go Nuclear...So Watch Out".

    Let's have some blender drinks. But don't let me bum any of your smokes, mmkay?


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