Wednesday, June 15, 2011

She probably doesn't even have kids.

Dear lady in the check-out line of Wal-Mart:

It's the middle of June. The weather is warm... some would even call it hot. I enjoy this weather, as do my children. Who, by the way, are MY children. I'm totally in charge of them and am capable and competent as a parent. I've been doing this whole Mom thing for a while now. I know my boys better than anyone else. Including you, who has "known" them for, what, 27 seconds?

This situation is this: When we walked in here it was 88 degrees outside. I'm wearing a t-shirt and flip-flops. My baby is barefoot for several reasons: 1) it's hot outside. 2) he hates wearing socks and will remove them exactly 9 seconds after I put them on him, 3) he doesn't walk yet so there is no need to put shoes on his feet. And although I'm sure you "mean well", I'd really appreciate it if you'd butt the heck out.

Regardless of how many times you cutely say in that babyish voice "Hi little guy, it looks like your feet are cold. Ooh, your Mommy sure does need to put some socks on you. I bet you're freezing." I'm NOT going to reply to you. I see no need to explain myself to you. (except in this here blog for my own catharsis) And despite your clever efforts, I am most certainly not going to put socks on his feet in this check-out line. How exactly would you suggest I do so, not having any in my purse anyway? Furthermore, his body temperature is just fine, thankyouverymuch. He's warm natured and if you look closely at his hair you'll see the faintest hint of sweat on his brow.

Secondly, at 1:30 pm the baby is sleepy -- not hungry, since he just ate lunch before we came to this fine retail establishment. Likewise, he has been in that there cart for 45 minutes now, which means he's getting bored. To multiply his unhappiness, we have been waiting in this check-out line for several minutes without moving, and the unchanging scenery don't keep him quite as entertained as wandering the aisles. I am fully aware of his grunting and reaching. And No, I'm not going to pick him up. He is not being neglected.

Do you see that pacifier attached to his shirt? He can put that in his mouth all by himself if he wanted to. You don't need to do it for him. And yes, I'm the one who gave him that coupon book to play with. I don't care if he chews on it. No, the ink isn't going to poison him. Yes, I know he's teething. Yes, I'm aware he has slobber on his chin.

I case you haven't noticed, I'm ignoring you.

What was your first clue? Was it the eye-roll I just threw your way? Or the fact that I just murmured "some people" to the cashier?

So just stand back there and make your funny faces and preach your superior mothering techniques to some other unsuspecting woman with a whining infant in her cart. Now if you'll excuse me... I'm going home to watch soaps and eat Nutella out of the jar while I let my child crawl around naked and fish 5-day-old cheerios out of the cracks of the couch. {not really, I never watch soaps. haha.}


Jilli said...

Oh my gosh are you serious?! Did she actually say all those things to you and ask those questions? Girl you were more collected than I would have been! Lol!

Christina said...

Hilarious! Wish I could have been there to see it!