Ok, so it's been a while since I have posted. But I'm back baby!
I have always wanted to blog about this topic because I get asked about it a lot...A LOT. And it bugs me, I dunno why. I guess because the question implies that I don't do anything all day when in reality I am crazy busy all day. As any other stay at home mom is. And it would imply that my day actually has an end and my job is over. Well, there is no end time. There is no end to the day when I am off duty. So, here is the breakdown of my day...and night.
8am wake up to Superman's screams and screeches (he just started doing this shriek two days ago) for MAA MAAAAA!!!!! EEEEEEKKK!!!!!!!!!!!
Pee. Change pajamas.
Wash sippy cup. Heat up milk in microwave, pour into sippy cup. Feed dog. Let dog out.
Get child out of crib. Give kisses. Wrestle child on table to change diaper.
Try to convince child to drink milk. Pick up cup from floor.
Turn on the Today show knowing full well I will not have time to watch it.
Try to throw in a load of laundry. Try to start washer before toddler has time to open door. Unsuccessful. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Remember to turn on washer when toddler is napping.
Try to wash dishes. Pry toddler out from inside the dishwasher. Take knife out from toddler's hand. Close dishwasher...remember to do dishes when toddler is napping.
Try and vacuum. Success.
Wrestle toddler to change into clothes for the day.
9am Speech Therapist arrives. I join in activities to persuade toddler to speak.
10am Breakfast. Make oatmeal. Superman is learning to eat with a spoon. Clean up oatmeal from wall. Clean off resistant toddler.
Try and brush my hair, teeth and put make-up on with toddler in bathroom throwing toilet paper (the day before it was shells) into the toilet. Take perfume bottle out of toddlers hand.
11am Try and think of activities to keep superman and myself occupied. A bored child is a bad troublesome child! Take a walk to park. Toddler wants to walk and will not be pushed in the stroller. Between stopping to look at bugs and playing with leaves it takes us 20 minutes to get there when it normally takes 4 minutes.
Push superman on swing for no kidding...17 minutes..
Walk back to house....20 minutes.
12noon Snack time.
Try and make a phones calls to doctor's offices and insurance company to settle bills from Superman's hospital stay from TWO freaking years ago!
Have to hang up because toddler is practicing his screeching again.
Read books.
12:30-2:30pm Nap time (his not mine). My favorite time of day!
(Can't make phone calls because it wakes up Junior)
Finish dishes, finish laundry, finish putting on make-up. Clean up mess in toilet bowl.
Change sheets on bed.
Finally check email. Jump on Facebook for 10 minutes.
Pay bills. Eat lunch. (Can't eat lunch with superman awake cause he will steal my food.)
2:30pm MAAAA MAAAA!!! Greet toddler. Change diaper.
Make lunch with hungry toddler stuck to my leg like a leg warmer.
Clean up lunch from floor and wall and dog's head.
3:30pm Food shopping. Try and convince child that sitting in the cart is fun. Throw crackers at him to keep him from jumping out.
5pm Stop at office supply store for husband. Chase child around store. Child has had enough of errands.
6pm Gymboree, Superman's play class. Sing corny songs. Act like I'm having a great time. Take asprin for headache listening to corny songs.
7:15pm Dinner. Clean up food from walls, floor, cabinet and dog's head. Feed dog.
7:45pm Bath time, read books, make sippy cup with warm milk (toddler wouldn't have it any other way.) Wrestle toddler to put on PJ's. Fight with him to brush his teeth. Put child to bed.
8:30pm Lay on couch and drool
10 pm Jump online to plan superman's birthday party.
10:16pm Try and soothe crying child back to sleep.
12am Try and soothe crying child back to sleep.
2:30am Try and soothe crying child back to sleep.
And there you have it folks! Sounds peaceful and fun doesn't it? Yeah right. This mom...this stay at home...but not really at home... mom thing is the hardest job I have ever had. Most of the time I'm exhausted. I love my son dearly or I would not do this but I cannot wait till he goes to school! I get the question "So, when are you going to have another?" right after I get asked what I do all day. Are you kidding me? So, what DO you DO all day?
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Who the hell does Madonna think she is?
On Wednesday night my husband and I went to the Madonna concert. Or is it called a show? I dunno. Somewhere along the way I think the word "concert" was phased out and the young kids started to call concerts shows. Anyway.
We drove 5 hours to Miami to see her royalty. Why do I call her royalty? Cause my ass only waits for Jesus and royalty for TWO AND A HALF HOURS! Yes, she was 2 1/2 hours late! B-I-O-T-C-H!!!!! Who the hell does she think she is? Who makes 40,000 people wait that long? Nobody puts baby in the corner!!!! I cursed her name the entire time. I bet she was with Rodriguez having some kind of steamy rendezvous. Whore. Damn her for having sex on my watch. She never apologized for being so late and didn't even wish us a Happy Thanksgiving! And there was no band that came on before her...boring.
We actually got to the stadium 15 minutes early. And early never happens for us. So it felt like forever sitting in those hard plastic seats. I got a lot of junk in the trunk and my rear still hurt. After two beers I started to get sleepy so I had to cut myself off from alcohol. I did spot a few people in the crowd actually sleeping.
We were there waiting so long that I got to know my neighbors. There was an old dude and his wife in front of us. He was literally 70 years old no lie. He grew up in Italy and we chatted about that. And next to us was a guy with really long dread locks who danced his ass off the entire time. In the row behind us was three older women with bad face lifts and jumbo lips. Such a broad spectrum of fans? Not something I expected to see at the Madonna concert/show.
I also wasn't expecting to see a concert that was more like a Broadway show on steroids. The set and stage were amazing. Holy crap! Ms. Madge danced her ass off for almost two hours non-stop. Man, she has got a body to die for. Or at least a body to leave your current wife and kids for. She also played guitar for four songs. Who knew she could play guitar? At one point she french kissed a female back up dancer...didn't see that one coming...Madonna never kisses women on stage. I also wasn't surprised that several dancers humped her from behind. Interesting non-the-less. What cracked me up was her charm: "C'mon you mother fuckers, stand up and stop trying to look bored. Put your hands in the air and smell your armpits." The crowd went wild. She called us mother fuckers numerous times as well as bitches.
She has been on the radio for a like a million years. She has reinvented herself like a million times. The lighting was outstanding. The sound was unbeleiveable. Her show was amazing, totally worth waiting for. And she is 50. So who does she think she is? Well just none other than Madonna.
We drove 5 hours to Miami to see her royalty. Why do I call her royalty? Cause my ass only waits for Jesus and royalty for TWO AND A HALF HOURS! Yes, she was 2 1/2 hours late! B-I-O-T-C-H!!!!! Who the hell does she think she is? Who makes 40,000 people wait that long? Nobody puts baby in the corner!!!! I cursed her name the entire time. I bet she was with Rodriguez having some kind of steamy rendezvous. Whore. Damn her for having sex on my watch. She never apologized for being so late and didn't even wish us a Happy Thanksgiving! And there was no band that came on before her...boring.
We actually got to the stadium 15 minutes early. And early never happens for us. So it felt like forever sitting in those hard plastic seats. I got a lot of junk in the trunk and my rear still hurt. After two beers I started to get sleepy so I had to cut myself off from alcohol. I did spot a few people in the crowd actually sleeping.
We were there waiting so long that I got to know my neighbors. There was an old dude and his wife in front of us. He was literally 70 years old no lie. He grew up in Italy and we chatted about that. And next to us was a guy with really long dread locks who danced his ass off the entire time. In the row behind us was three older women with bad face lifts and jumbo lips. Such a broad spectrum of fans? Not something I expected to see at the Madonna concert/show.
I also wasn't expecting to see a concert that was more like a Broadway show on steroids. The set and stage were amazing. Holy crap! Ms. Madge danced her ass off for almost two hours non-stop. Man, she has got a body to die for. Or at least a body to leave your current wife and kids for. She also played guitar for four songs. Who knew she could play guitar? At one point she french kissed a female back up dancer...didn't see that one coming...Madonna never kisses women on stage. I also wasn't surprised that several dancers humped her from behind. Interesting non-the-less. What cracked me up was her charm: "C'mon you mother fuckers, stand up and stop trying to look bored. Put your hands in the air and smell your armpits." The crowd went wild. She called us mother fuckers numerous times as well as bitches.
She has been on the radio for a like a million years. She has reinvented herself like a million times. The lighting was outstanding. The sound was unbeleiveable. Her show was amazing, totally worth waiting for. And she is 50. So who does she think she is? Well just none other than Madonna.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Where do you sit?
Have you ever been in a restaurant and seen two people sitting on the same side of the table? This drives me nuts! Why are they sitting on the same side of the table when there are four chairs at the table? Or a booth made with two benches.
It's so much easier to talk to someone across from you than next to you. Picture this, you turn your head to talk to the person next to you and their cheek is facing forward stuffed with a big mouthful of hamburger. And now you are like 2 inches away from this person chewing their cow and talking into their cheek. Gross! Some things are just not meant to be seen up close.
Are people really this co-dependant that they can't even stand to be apart from each other for one meal? You can still hold hand across the table so don't act like it's a PDA type of thing. I've been in love before but I like a little space between me and my honey. We can play footsie under the table...people who sit next to one another can't play footsie. Who doesn't like footsie?
Another seating issue, people who sit too close to the driver of a car. You know what I'm talking about. A pick-up truck with the passenger sitting right smack next to the driver. "Love" you might call it? I think it is more like "hate" than anything. Why? Cause the passenger can't even wear a seat belt sitting that close to the driver! Nothing says "I hate you" more than your loved one being thrown from a moving vehicle in an accident. Move over you dumb ass! Cuddle when you get to your destination safely.
It's so much easier to talk to someone across from you than next to you. Picture this, you turn your head to talk to the person next to you and their cheek is facing forward stuffed with a big mouthful of hamburger. And now you are like 2 inches away from this person chewing their cow and talking into their cheek. Gross! Some things are just not meant to be seen up close.
Are people really this co-dependant that they can't even stand to be apart from each other for one meal? You can still hold hand across the table so don't act like it's a PDA type of thing. I've been in love before but I like a little space between me and my honey. We can play footsie under the table...people who sit next to one another can't play footsie. Who doesn't like footsie?
Another seating issue, people who sit too close to the driver of a car. You know what I'm talking about. A pick-up truck with the passenger sitting right smack next to the driver. "Love" you might call it? I think it is more like "hate" than anything. Why? Cause the passenger can't even wear a seat belt sitting that close to the driver! Nothing says "I hate you" more than your loved one being thrown from a moving vehicle in an accident. Move over you dumb ass! Cuddle when you get to your destination safely.
Monday, November 3, 2008
How much is that sticker worth?
Tomorrow is election day. As if you didn't know. So this is my one political post. It is deep so bare with me. I could talk about the economy, environment, gas prices. But I am going to focus on a truly important question.
Who pays for the "I voted" stickers? Every person gets one who votes right? I be they are like 2 cents a piece. Times a bazillion people. So that could add up to a hefty sum. I'm assuming neither political party flips the bill. Are the tax payers paying for it? If so I want to put my money else where. Who cares about some dumb sticker? It's not like people will see me out in public with my stupid sticker on and think "Oh gee look at Ms. Smarty Pants, she voted." What's this first grade? I'd rather have a gold star sticker anyway.
Who pays for the "I voted" stickers? Every person gets one who votes right? I be they are like 2 cents a piece. Times a bazillion people. So that could add up to a hefty sum. I'm assuming neither political party flips the bill. Are the tax payers paying for it? If so I want to put my money else where. Who cares about some dumb sticker? It's not like people will see me out in public with my stupid sticker on and think "Oh gee look at Ms. Smarty Pants, she voted." What's this first grade? I'd rather have a gold star sticker anyway.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Who am I Cybil?
Do you remember that old movie about the woman with multiple personalities? I never saw the whole thing but she was pretty crazy, bonkers, coo-coo for cocoa puffs if ya know what I mean. I think I may be a little wacky too.
Yesterday was a rough day. It was one of those days where I wanted to QUIT. Throw my hands up in the air and quit being a mom, let a lone a stay at home mom. We had to take superman to the pediatric optomologist. We can't go to just any old eye doctor nooooo. They have to specialize in preemie eyes. There is only ONE in the Tampa Bay area. TB has a population of over TWO million people so to get in to see her is tough. Her office is 45 minutes away. This was our ordeal:
Wake sleeping toddler up from nap. Waking sleeping toddler is like waking a sleeping bear.
Drive 45 minutes. Play "On top of Spaghetti" four times. (His favorite song)
Wait in office for 45 minutes. Feed crackers to restless child, read books and play with car.
Pick up books, crackers and car from the floor multiple times.
Apologize to other patrons for screaming child.
Finally get into room and nurse puts eye drops to dilate panic stricken child's eyes.
Wait another 20 minutes. In the mean time...
Walk fussy child around shady areas of parking lot trying to avoid sunlight. We live in FL hello!
Pick tantrum throwing child up from parking lot put into stroller.
Feed banana. Pick banana up from pavement.
Push stroller around in circle inside office waiting room 38 times.
Listen to my hunger pains.
Finally get in to see Dr. ...
Remove child's hands from expensive equipment repeatedly. Over. And Over.
Dr. looks into child's eyes, he is fine. Must return in six months.
Ignore my hunger pains.
Sit in rush hour traffic for one hour.
Play "On top of Spaghetti" 13 times on ride home and sing along.
Praise Jesus when we pull into driveway.
After this nightmare superman's molars start to peak through his pink gums turning him into grumpy stinkerpants for the rest of the evening. We listened to whining and crying the majority of our night. Tylenol does not work! Damn that Tylenol! One of the worst feelings is not being able to help an upset child. I reached my breaking point. This particular day was the straw that broke the camel's back. I deal with his frustration and pour myself a heaping cup of patience on a daily basis. That's what parents do.
At one point, I look to my husband and say, "I just can't do this anymore. No, FOR REAL! Being a mom, the whole stay at home mommy thing. It is just not for me. I quit." And I was serious. Where is the nearest day care center? When does school start? If the nearest exit is located behind me I'm turning around. Take me out coach I don't like this game. It's days like this that are good for population control.
Today is another story. Superman was happy and in turn so was I. His smile lit up the room multiple times. He was so cute in the bathtub tonight splashing around that I actually thought of having another child. For a mere second I thought, "Another bambino sure would be fun." It's days like this that keep the human species going.
See, I'm nutty. Crazy. Insane. I tol ya so. I don't know either of these women. How can I go from one extreme to another so quickly? Medication, do they make medication for this? I'd like some please.
Yesterday was a rough day. It was one of those days where I wanted to QUIT. Throw my hands up in the air and quit being a mom, let a lone a stay at home mom. We had to take superman to the pediatric optomologist. We can't go to just any old eye doctor nooooo. They have to specialize in preemie eyes. There is only ONE in the Tampa Bay area. TB has a population of over TWO million people so to get in to see her is tough. Her office is 45 minutes away. This was our ordeal:
Wake sleeping toddler up from nap. Waking sleeping toddler is like waking a sleeping bear.
Drive 45 minutes. Play "On top of Spaghetti" four times. (His favorite song)
Wait in office for 45 minutes. Feed crackers to restless child, read books and play with car.
Pick up books, crackers and car from the floor multiple times.
Apologize to other patrons for screaming child.
Finally get into room and nurse puts eye drops to dilate panic stricken child's eyes.
Wait another 20 minutes. In the mean time...
Walk fussy child around shady areas of parking lot trying to avoid sunlight. We live in FL hello!
Pick tantrum throwing child up from parking lot put into stroller.
Feed banana. Pick banana up from pavement.
Push stroller around in circle inside office waiting room 38 times.
Listen to my hunger pains.
Finally get in to see Dr. ...
Remove child's hands from expensive equipment repeatedly. Over. And Over.
Dr. looks into child's eyes, he is fine. Must return in six months.
Ignore my hunger pains.
Sit in rush hour traffic for one hour.
Play "On top of Spaghetti" 13 times on ride home and sing along.
Praise Jesus when we pull into driveway.
After this nightmare superman's molars start to peak through his pink gums turning him into grumpy stinkerpants for the rest of the evening. We listened to whining and crying the majority of our night. Tylenol does not work! Damn that Tylenol! One of the worst feelings is not being able to help an upset child. I reached my breaking point. This particular day was the straw that broke the camel's back. I deal with his frustration and pour myself a heaping cup of patience on a daily basis. That's what parents do.
At one point, I look to my husband and say, "I just can't do this anymore. No, FOR REAL! Being a mom, the whole stay at home mommy thing. It is just not for me. I quit." And I was serious. Where is the nearest day care center? When does school start? If the nearest exit is located behind me I'm turning around. Take me out coach I don't like this game. It's days like this that are good for population control.
Today is another story. Superman was happy and in turn so was I. His smile lit up the room multiple times. He was so cute in the bathtub tonight splashing around that I actually thought of having another child. For a mere second I thought, "Another bambino sure would be fun." It's days like this that keep the human species going.
See, I'm nutty. Crazy. Insane. I tol ya so. I don't know either of these women. How can I go from one extreme to another so quickly? Medication, do they make medication for this? I'd like some please.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
What am I doing?
I have a confession to make. As a mom, I have no idea what I'm doing. I always thought that parents knew stuff. I thought that I'd get to a certain point in my life and exclaim "I know about a lot of stuff!" and then be ready to have kids. But at 33 that time never came and I figured I'd better have a baby while I was still dumb and naive or I'd miss my opportunity.
The truth is I'm just winging this whole parent thing. As soon as I get the hang of a certain stage in my son's life he grows up a bit and then there is a new stage I know nothing about. I read some books here and there and they gave me little tips on how to make things easier. But there are plenty of times I look at my husband and shrug my shoulders and go I dunno. This happens a lot!
When my son was born early the nurses referred to me as "mom". I think they just didn't want to remember all the parents names in the neonatal intensive care unit. I was like who? Me? Mom? Because he was early I wasn't ready to be a mom but I stepped up to the challenge. And I do so every day cause that's what moms do.
When we took my son on his first vacation last year across the state to Amelia Island we were a mess. We looked something like a National Lampoon's vacation and the two Stooges. We had no idea how my son would handle being off his schedule (kids need a schedule as I was told), sleeping in a hotel or the three hour car ride. He went easy on his clueless parents. God bless him.
When he got croup last year and had a cough that sounded like a dog barking.... I had no idea what to do. But I knew giving him beef snausages was not the answer (it works for the dog). Choking on a cracker...is it pat on the back or sweep his mouth?
Attacted by mosquito's...Benedryl? Ice pack? For that one we brought him to the urgent care center when his eye swelled shut.
Waking in the middle of the night...cry it out? Who can listen to their baby cry for hours on end?
I still am dumbfounded on what to do when he bites my husband and I. Time out didn't work. Or maybe we didn't do it right? I know I don't want to spank but why not?
So once again I'm faced with an issue. Superman has had the poops and I mean the worst poops ever for five days. No fever though. We have tried the bland diet to no avail. This afternoon I'm taking him to the doctor. And I'm sure he will look at my son, look at me and tell me I'm crazy and worrying about nothing. And I will look at him and say "I'm a first time mom!" But I will bring him in anyway. Cause I have no idea what I'm doing! Please world, go gentle on me.
The truth is I'm just winging this whole parent thing. As soon as I get the hang of a certain stage in my son's life he grows up a bit and then there is a new stage I know nothing about. I read some books here and there and they gave me little tips on how to make things easier. But there are plenty of times I look at my husband and shrug my shoulders and go I dunno. This happens a lot!
When my son was born early the nurses referred to me as "mom". I think they just didn't want to remember all the parents names in the neonatal intensive care unit. I was like who? Me? Mom? Because he was early I wasn't ready to be a mom but I stepped up to the challenge. And I do so every day cause that's what moms do.
When we took my son on his first vacation last year across the state to Amelia Island we were a mess. We looked something like a National Lampoon's vacation and the two Stooges. We had no idea how my son would handle being off his schedule (kids need a schedule as I was told), sleeping in a hotel or the three hour car ride. He went easy on his clueless parents. God bless him.
When he got croup last year and had a cough that sounded like a dog barking.... I had no idea what to do. But I knew giving him beef snausages was not the answer (it works for the dog). Choking on a cracker...is it pat on the back or sweep his mouth?
Attacted by mosquito's...Benedryl? Ice pack? For that one we brought him to the urgent care center when his eye swelled shut.
Waking in the middle of the night...cry it out? Who can listen to their baby cry for hours on end?
I still am dumbfounded on what to do when he bites my husband and I. Time out didn't work. Or maybe we didn't do it right? I know I don't want to spank but why not?
So once again I'm faced with an issue. Superman has had the poops and I mean the worst poops ever for five days. No fever though. We have tried the bland diet to no avail. This afternoon I'm taking him to the doctor. And I'm sure he will look at my son, look at me and tell me I'm crazy and worrying about nothing. And I will look at him and say "I'm a first time mom!" But I will bring him in anyway. Cause I have no idea what I'm doing! Please world, go gentle on me.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Crap. What would you do?
I know this has happened to you. Don't pretend like it hasn't. You are out and about, going about your business and suddenly it hits you...time to do your business! I expect this kind of thing if I go to Starbucks and smell their coffee. What is it about the smell of coffee? I usually don't talk about this kind of stuff but I must share my experience that almost turned me into somebody that I didn't recognize.
I was at Publix (insert Pathmark for you people living up North) grocery (insert food for those of you living down South) shopping and I noticed half way through the store a little strange feeling down below. I thought eh, I can wait till I get home. I hate to use the bathroom for #2 in a public place. I quickly finished my shopping and headed toward the checkout line. One person ahead of me. I start to read the cover of the magazines to get my mind off of my problem and I wait...and wait. Hmm I really gotta go! I start to load (forgive me for using this word at a time like this) my groceries onto the belt while the person ahead of me finishes up. Wait. What is she doing? Writing a check! Noooo! Oh for Pete's sake! Are you kidding me? Who writes checks anymore? Where is your debit card woman? Oh and don't tell me the old lady is working the cash register today. The old lady who loves to chit chat about nothing. They are taking their sweet old time laughing it up. Alright people, this isn't funny, I gotta go! NOW! Move along sweet cakes. And I mean pronto! Suddenly, I'm wishing horrible things on this woman in front of me. I'm hoping she can feel my hatred through the back of her head.
I finish unloading my groceries onto the belt. Suddenly I hate being tall. Why? Cause tall people must bend over into the cart to pick up the junk they want to buy. Repeatedly. And bending over is not the position you want to be in when nature calls.
Finally Thelma and Louise are finished with their gab-a-thon. I'm up. OK lady just move quickly and nobody gets hurt. Scan, scan, scan sister! Today is not my lucky day. She has an ace bandage on her wrist. She starts in with "Hi...beeep (scanning sound)...how are you...beeep? Did you...beep...find everything you were...beeep...looking for?" I'm like "Yeah, whatever hi yes." Panic sets in. I'm now crossing my legs. Oh good there is a bagger here “paper please.” "So...beep...how about the Rays (baseball)...beeep." "Isn't it wonderful how well...beep...they are doing? Don't you just love ...beep...baseball?" Me:"Um no I don't follow baseball." It must be bagger boys first day on the job because he is packing my bags so slowly you'd think he was carefully placing newborn babies in there! Me: "Ya know, you can just throw the stuff in there I'm kinda in a rush." Beep, beep, beep, beep. Jeez how much crap am I buying...will the beeping ever end? Cashier: "Baseball used to be the American past time...beeep..beeep. I remember when....."(My thoughts start to trail off as she rambles on.) Dear God, please don't let me shit my pants. Not here, not now, not in public. Will I actually shit myself? A grown woman shitting herself. I'm breaking out in a sweat at this point I'm sure of it. I start to recite every prayer in my head that I know. I pray to God, Jesus and every saint I know. Crap, why don't I go to church? Who are the disciples? Who was at the table with Jesus?
"Ma'am do you want your meat wrapped in a plastic bag?"
"Oh isn't this a pretty nail polish color. Are you going to do your nails later?"
"I didn't know they made soy nuggets."
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs "Hurry the F up! Please for the love of God and all that's holy!!!"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
And then I hear the most amazing words in the English language:
"Your total is..."
Oh thank God!!!!
Bagger boy wants to know if I want help out to my car with my cart.
"I'm not going to my car!" I exclaim as I haul ass over to the restrooms.
And then it's over, as quickly as it was brought on. If only I had gone straight to the public restroom none of this would have ever happened.
I was at Publix (insert Pathmark for you people living up North) grocery (insert food for those of you living down South) shopping and I noticed half way through the store a little strange feeling down below. I thought eh, I can wait till I get home. I hate to use the bathroom for #2 in a public place. I quickly finished my shopping and headed toward the checkout line. One person ahead of me. I start to read the cover of the magazines to get my mind off of my problem and I wait...and wait. Hmm I really gotta go! I start to load (forgive me for using this word at a time like this) my groceries onto the belt while the person ahead of me finishes up. Wait. What is she doing? Writing a check! Noooo! Oh for Pete's sake! Are you kidding me? Who writes checks anymore? Where is your debit card woman? Oh and don't tell me the old lady is working the cash register today. The old lady who loves to chit chat about nothing. They are taking their sweet old time laughing it up. Alright people, this isn't funny, I gotta go! NOW! Move along sweet cakes. And I mean pronto! Suddenly, I'm wishing horrible things on this woman in front of me. I'm hoping she can feel my hatred through the back of her head.
I finish unloading my groceries onto the belt. Suddenly I hate being tall. Why? Cause tall people must bend over into the cart to pick up the junk they want to buy. Repeatedly. And bending over is not the position you want to be in when nature calls.
Finally Thelma and Louise are finished with their gab-a-thon. I'm up. OK lady just move quickly and nobody gets hurt. Scan, scan, scan sister! Today is not my lucky day. She has an ace bandage on her wrist. She starts in with "Hi...beeep (scanning sound)...how are you...beeep? Did you...beep...find everything you were...beeep...looking for?" I'm like "Yeah, whatever hi yes." Panic sets in. I'm now crossing my legs. Oh good there is a bagger here “paper please.” "So...beep...how about the Rays (baseball)...beeep." "Isn't it wonderful how well...beep...they are doing? Don't you just love ...beep...baseball?" Me:"Um no I don't follow baseball." It must be bagger boys first day on the job because he is packing my bags so slowly you'd think he was carefully placing newborn babies in there! Me: "Ya know, you can just throw the stuff in there I'm kinda in a rush." Beep, beep, beep, beep. Jeez how much crap am I buying...will the beeping ever end? Cashier: "Baseball used to be the American past time...beeep..beeep. I remember when....."(My thoughts start to trail off as she rambles on.) Dear God, please don't let me shit my pants. Not here, not now, not in public. Will I actually shit myself? A grown woman shitting herself. I'm breaking out in a sweat at this point I'm sure of it. I start to recite every prayer in my head that I know. I pray to God, Jesus and every saint I know. Crap, why don't I go to church? Who are the disciples? Who was at the table with Jesus?
"Ma'am do you want your meat wrapped in a plastic bag?"
"Oh isn't this a pretty nail polish color. Are you going to do your nails later?"
"I didn't know they made soy nuggets."
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs "Hurry the F up! Please for the love of God and all that's holy!!!"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
And then I hear the most amazing words in the English language:
"Your total is..."
Oh thank God!!!!
Bagger boy wants to know if I want help out to my car with my cart.
"I'm not going to my car!" I exclaim as I haul ass over to the restrooms.
And then it's over, as quickly as it was brought on. If only I had gone straight to the public restroom none of this would have ever happened.
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