Thursday, February 2, 2006

The one where you go, "Well, at least she's got a nice smile."

As if I needed something else to help me feel like crap today, I took the kids to the library for storytime. That went well, until it was time for the kids to play and the Moms to gab.

There's a new Mom today, one who just moved here and has lots of questions. Always ready to, you know, talk, I was happy to oblige. As we were yakking, a few other mom-types gathered and joined the conversation.

We moved from pre-schools to play times, running down the list of where's, when's, and how much's, when I had the brilliant BRILLIANT! idea to plug my husband's place of business.

While I'm not at liberty to divulge where he works, let me just say this: it is AWESOME -- food, environment, everything is AWESOME, and very very popular. Everyone knows this place, and I have yet to meet someone who has been there who hasn't just had wonderful things to say.

Until today.

Like I said, we were talking about places to take the kids, and I threw in Shawn's place, 'cause it's great and all, when ogre mom-type #1 butts in with, "Yeah, but it's so expensive." To which I quickly respond -- "Oh, I know! If we didn't get a discount, we totally wouldn't go. Well, I mean, uh, you know, just not quite as much, you know I mean, probably for just like special occasions and stuff, and blahblah shut up now you freak blah blah blah."

They should really hire me to do PR.

Luckily, I grabbed what little senses I had left and finished with, "Yep, it's big money, but damn, the food is soooo worth it." Yeah, that should make up for the other stuff.

Obviously, I quickly grabbed our things and headed to the circulation desk, where I was met full on by Evil Librarian Bitch. Normally she's holed up in her Evil Lair, but I guess she was looking to flex her Evil Muscles and had joined the riff-raff to commune with the public.

I quickly manuevered the stroller to the other check-out line, which was a good thing, because when I bent to get the books, Jax had christened one with his mouth, and Ryan was looking up at me like this:

Sweet Jesus suckin' on a lollipop.

What the hell happened to my kid? I'm not sure whether to blame Madonna, Boy George, or Ronald McDonald. Or maybe, I should just point the finger at the sweet little girl who gave Ryan the purple lip gloss trinket. Either way, I was a walking bull's eye.

Again, I managed to sneak out unscathed, even as Ryan tore part of their Valentines Day display (we'll file that one under "free speech" -- commercialization, forcing love and coupledom upon the world, and so on). We made our way to McDonalds, because I needed to have a word with The Man, and when we got there we saw the cutest little boy all dressed in a fly little warm-up suit, standing with his Dad who was looking pretty typical in jeans, a grey sweatshirt and brown work boots. Cutest little boy looks at me and says, "Look! Look at my Dad! He's all dressed up!"

Right on, brother. Right on.

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