After my post yesterday I had one of the most embarrassing trips out in public with my children ever. Then there was a family birthday dinner, a tornado, and overstimulated children to get to sleep so I didn’t get to post again until today.
So picture me in the Barnes and Noble looking for a book for my husband’s birthday. I knew they had the book in stock, I just couldn’t see it on the shelf. (Side note: The book was listed under Business: Starting a Business, but was actually found under Entrepreneurship: Starting a Business. Isn’t that a redundant category?)
I’m holding the baby on my left hip, my giant purse on my right shoulder, and 2-year-old Griffin’s hand clutched tightly in my right hand. I’m wearing dirty, baggy jeans and a college sweatshirt that once belonged to my father and has a circular hole that I’m pretty sure is a cigarette burn.
This is when Griffin made a break for it and ran giggling hysterically through the giant bookshelves while I tried to catch him without running in a store. I finally grabbed him and refused to let go of his hand. He managed to talk me into letting go (“my stay wight heah, Mommy”) and then he ran again. Little bugger. He even grinned as he ran away.
Again I chased him down and sort of grabbed him by the head as he ran by. Now, you need to know that when Griffin doesn’t like something he just yells, “Ow, Ow Ow, dis huhts Me!” He has learned that yelling “this hurts me” gets a much faster response than “I don’t want to do this!”
So he’s yelling “Dis huhts me! Ow, dis huhts my head! Ow Ow Ow!” when I get down next to him and threaten him with certain pain if doesn’t stop acting like this in public. That’s when he added “I want my Mommy” to his litany of complaints.
The constant chants of “Ow, my head! Dis huhts me! I want my Mommy!” finally caught the attention of a pain-in-the-ass innocent bystander who felt the need to come over. An amazonian woman with a power yoga tank top and a nose ring blocked my path out of bookshelf hell and said, “Is. He.Ok.”
It was not a question, but rather a condemnation. I rolled my eyes and said, “He’s fine. He’s just mad at life right now.” She seemed confused by that response. Maybe she’s mad at life, too. That would explain the nose ring.
I finally got out of the store only to find that Annoyingly Fit Girl parked next to me and had driven away before I got even one of my kids buckled.
I hate her. And everyone else.