Wednesday, May 5, 2010

A Personal Message... the woman in front of me at the Giant the other day, rolling her eyes at me and my children.

First of all, what kind of person doesn't smile at my baby boy when he smiles at you? Because, really, I'm not biased or anything, but I'm fairly certain he's the cutest baby boy (save one, maybe) that has ever graced this earth. And that smile? It's worth more than it's weight in gold. That was a gift, lady. Smile back, thanks!

And yes, I apologize for you having to endure the screaming of my ornery 2.5 year old daughter. Yes, it was annoying to listen to -- trust me, I know. See, you got 20 minutes of it. I get it ALL. DAY. LONG. And trust me, it's fabulous. Awesome.

And the looks you were giving her, willing her to shut up? Trust me, they don't work. Looks don't work, time-outs don't work, yelling doesn't work, taking away her toys most CERTAINLY doesn't work. So, really, just calm down about it. Don't get annoyed that I was ignoring it, b/c, if YOU had a 2 year old, you would understand. It's your only defense. Pretend like it's not happening, and it might -- MIGHT -- possibly go away.

And, btw, you didn't help much. Was it REALLY necessary for you to place each and every item out of our cart on the conveyor in the SAME direction? I mean, REALLY, lady. I've seen OCD, and you need help. I watched as you carefully grouped the OVER 40 CANS of cat food by type, and then carefully turned EACH can so that the UPC codes were facing in the same direction, before even more carefully placing them down on the belt. Seriously? Are you kidding me? When you have a screaming preschooler on your hands, every second counts. THROW THE DAMN CAT FOOD ON THE BELT! The 40 minutes you spent unloading your cart only added to the time I got to spend prying M&Ms out of Kate's hands (tantrum), demanding she put her shoes back on (tantrum), putting her in the cart next to Charlie (as requested by Miss Kate, and followed by tantrum), denying many, many snacks (tantrum), begging her to get back in the "wheels on the bus" (Kate-ism for the car on the front of the cart -- tantrum), telling her to stop pulling on Charlie's feet (tantrum) and insisting that she use words to express herself (tantrum).

And seriously -- SERIOUSLY -- a CHECK?!?!?! This is 2010, lady! GET A DEBIT CARD! Really, there is a special place in Hell reserved for people who still write checks at the grocery store, especially when there is a screaming toddler in line behind you. Because, REALLY? REALLY? REALLY? I bet you don't have a cell phone, either. You probably do that whole "if I don't want to talk to people, I don't want to have to talk to them." Which, lady, is why cell phones (all phones, btw) come with this convenient option of NOT ANSWERING THEM when you don't want to chat. But that's another whole rant. The thing is... GET A DAMN DEBIT CARD!

And don't think I didn't hear you muttering under your breath about how "this is why I have CATS instead of children."

Oh, it's on, lady.

See, I have a cat, too. I'm a cat person, and I love -- no really -- LOVE my cat. I can tear up just at the thought of losing my cat; and he's old, so trust me -- the day is coming. But let me tell you, even with all the screaming, tantrums, boogers handed to you on the end of a finger when you have no tissues handy, annoying questions about the SAME things over and over, fights with siblings, refusals to get dressed, refusals to eat a nice dinner you just spent 40 minutes cooking, vomit, diapers and diarrhea clean up at 2:30 am -- this is ALL WORTH IT. This is the BEST ride I've ever been on, and I'd rather hear Kate throw tantrums all day long than live a single second without her, or my other two, in my life. Because THAT, lady, is paradise. THAT is why you have kids AND cats.

So again, I apologize for the 40 minutes you had to endure of my child testing her ability to get her way over, and over, and over again (and losing, btw, hence the tantrums). And even more, I apologize for that fact that you will never have the pleasure of a child's arms around your neck, telling you -- out of the blue, in fact -- that they just LOVE you, and want to be JUST like you. I'm sorry you didn't get the chance at paradise yourself.