Watch What You Say!

Oh boy! Here we go again. Kristin said something REALLY stupid in front of her little ladies and it came back to haunt her. Are you surprised? Probably not. So here's the story:

I decided to go to McDonald's today for lunch with my ladies. Now, Bertrand, I know you're reading this and I know what you're gonna' say at this point.

Yes, I remember the conversation we once had about how me taking the girls to McDonald's to eat was grounds for divorce because you will not sit back and watch me slowly kill our children by feeding them propane-dipped chicken nuggets, etc., etc.

HOWEVER, when you grilled us steaks the other night, you got lighter fluid all over them and you were expecting us to actually EAT them like that, so what's the difference?

ANYWAY, we can discuss this later. I have a story to tell and I'm sure you'll be pleased to discover this does NOT have a happy ending. Oh, wipe that smug look off your face!

SO, where were we? Ah yes - McDonald's. Drive-thru to be exact. I don't like to actually go into those places unless I feel the need to punish my children for being particularly unruly. Just because they don't see me throwing them into the greasy, germ-infested plastic tunnels (which, by the way, are becoming unhinged at one particular McDonald's) as punishment, doesn't mean it isn't.

A truck came around the corner from a different direction, cut me off and dashed ahead of me into the drive-thru line. I thought, "Okay, whatever" and continued to pull forward when just then ANOTHER small truck comes around that same corner and cuts me off even worse than the first truck. I'm thinking, "Okay, it's OBVIOUS I was next in line. Clearly this person is just plain rude!" So I slammed on my brakes very deliberately and dropped my jaw and said aloud, "WOW! That's INCREDIBLE!"

I heard two little voices behind me inquiring, "What mommy? What's indec-a-lubble?"

"Nothing," I replied.

"MOMMY!" the little voices persisted. "What's indec-a-lubble?"

I heaved a big sigh and decided to explain since the truck two spaces ahead who had initially cut me off was taking FOREVER to order. "Well," I started in. "There's a disgusting old lady with missing teeth in front of us who just cut us off and mommy is NOT happy."

"A ugly old lady, mommy? I wanna' see her!" My daughter said with excitement and started trying to wriggle in her carseat to get a better look. "I wanna see missing teef!"

I know! I know! NOT a nice thing to say and so out of character for me...well, in front of my impressionable children at least. Look, I know this is not an excuse, but:

1. I'm big and pregnant and miserable (And no, I will not stop complaining about that until this baby finally gets out of my belly).

2. It's stinkin' hot out!

3. It was a particularly horrid morning with my girls fighting constantly, I had accomplished next to nothing and I was dead tired.

Besides, she did look like this:


I'm not kidding! No, she was definitely a woman. I could tell. Barely, but I could still tell. But she seriously looked like this guy. It's the first thing I thought of when I saw her.

ANYWAY!

So, the girls kept straining to see this "ugly old lady with missing teef" and never could get a good look. I tried to change the subject and convince them to drop it, which eventually ended in success...or so I thought.

After lunch I decided to take the girls to the Fry's by our house. They LOVE going there because the carts have mini cars attached to the front, so they can pretend they're driving me around the store to where the good food is....or both try climbing out the front windshield space, hitting each other, screaming, sometimes falling out the front or sides, etc. It was fun the first few times, but now they've just taken it for granted and drive me NUTS! Anyway, we only needed a few things, so I decided to just tough it out.

So, we're standing in the checkout line finally and I'm spacing out, skimming the magazine headlines, trying to decide if I'm so desperate for an escape, that I'd be willing to drop $3-4 on a magazine about the Desperate Housewives of...I don't remember. Name a city where there AREN'T a bunch of desperate housewives.

Suddenly, I hear a little voice, repeating something over and over, bringing me out of my temporary lobotomy.

"Mommy, is dat da ugly old lady wif missing teef?"

It was my 2-year-old. Suddenly my 3-year-old started chiming in. They continued to ask over and over. I furrowed my brow in confusion and started glancing around, very slowly coming out of my retarded condition, trying to figure out what they were talking about. Suddenly, my eyes fell upon an old, puffy set of ankles riddled with varicose veins. I could feel my eyes widen in their sockets. My breathing became slightly labored, my heart pounding furiously. My eyes slowly moved their way up the body of this person in front of us until they reached the face. It was indeed a much older woman. One who could easily be classified as "old lady". The panic set in. She did NOT look amused.

"Uhhh....." I panted. Their interrogation continued. "That's enough, ladies!" I shouted. But it didn't stop.

"MOM! E! I saaaid...is that a ugly old lady?" My 3-year-old enunciated each word in defiance. I could have choked her.

"SYLVIE-FAYE! I said that's ENOUGH!" I snarled. "That is NOT an ugly old lady! Don't you EVER talk like that AGAIN!"

"Yes she IS a ugly old lady, mommy!" Sylvie insisted. If I could have shot laser beams out of my eyes at that moment and reduced my child to a mere puff of smoke, I just might have. I was shocked and humiliated and completely thrown off guard at my daughter's beligerence. This could only have come from one source. I couldn't bear the thought of it. I knew very well where this behavior came from - ME!

I wanted to die a thousand deaths. I've drawn this story out long enough, so let me just end by saying that I apologized profusely to this old lady, begged her forgiveness on my daughter's behalf and insisted I had no idea why she was saying these things (I'm a terrible liar, I know - even to strangers). The lady was not so forgiving and I can't say that I blame her. She paid for her groceries and stormed out of there completely miffed!

I wish I could say it ended there.

(SIGH)

I pushed forward, my face a deep purple at this point, fighting back tears of humiliation welling in my eyes. "Oh my gosh! I'm so embarrassed right now." I unloaded on the poor cashier.

"That's okay," she replied, then bent down to my daughter's level and said, "She WAS an ugly old lady, wasn't she? And mean too."

I clenched my jaw and grimaced. My daughter nodded her head and said, "Yeah. She's a mean, ugly, old lady!"

"Yeah," my 2-year-old chimed in. "She a mean, ugly....(hesitating, trying to remember the rest of the adjectives)..."

My 3-year-old decided to help, "Stupid, old lady!"

"Sylvie! No! No!" I scolded firmly.

My panting returned. I was completely emotionally exhausted at this point. I just wanted to get back to the safety of my own home. Obviously my children are not completely fit for social interraction. Time to return to the cave and start over.

The End

HA! I WISH!

We got outside the store and made our way through the parking lot. Moving down the aisle at a somewhat moderate speed, my eyes caught sight of the woman from the store. I felt that pins and needles sensation of instant fear set into my skin. At this point I'm already sweating and panting.

"Mommy, look! That's the stupid, ugly, old lady!" Sylvie just wasn't gonna' let it go.

"Yeah stupid lady!" Chloe added.

They both started giggling. I glanced over in horror at the old lady. I could see her attempting to shoot laser beams out of her eyes at this point, but luckily they short circuited and I made a successful dash to my car, narrowly avoiding an early death.

AAAAHHHHHH!!! Let me tell ya' - my girls got the lecture of a LIFETIME on the way home from the grocery store and they were sent immediately to bed for a nap!