Monday, July 7, 2008

Raisin' Hell in Home Depot

courtesy of yours truly

I almost killed a kid in Home Depot yesterday. On purpose. There to select my wood (HA!) for the FUH-looores-UH ( I swear, you guys have the dirtiest minds.....) that we are putting in, Freddy and Dora were doing the normal kid thing that you do when you a KID in Home Depot. You know. Pretend that you live in each of the “imaginary kitchens that my kitchen will never look like because I have living, breathing, messy, dirty people in my house” displays set up for your viewing pleasure. I believe they became separated around my personal fav, the rustic Italian model. As I attempted to corral them back to Leo and myself, Freddy peeks around the corner of a stainless steel side by side fridge. It was lovely and I was just about to compliment his fabulous taste when I caught the look in his eye of a boy disturbed. Lower lip poked out, mute, eyes cast downward, he points to his crotch. It seems that my boy couldn’t make his way out of pretend kitchen land to find me, or the loo, in time. He was embarrassed and none too happy about wearing wet shorts for any period of time. I immediately kick it into “save my baby’s pride” mode, notify Leonidas that I am exiting hardwoods, and make my way to the john. Of course Dora will not allow any of this hot action to take place without her, so she comes with. As we are walking all mushed up together(because you know that people don’t see pee pee if you’re stuck to your mother) through carpets, halfway there, we are passed by two greasy faced pre-teen little shits who seem to be lost without a tube of Oxy in one hand and a video game controller supported by a bag of Doritos in the other. I hear one of the little shits say the following:

Little Shit: YO! LOOK! THAT LITTLE KID DONE PISSED ALL OVER HISSELF!! HAHAHAHAHAHAH! (The little voice reading this in your head should be really teen mean and maniacal.)

I know I could’ve kept quiet, and maybe, had he just thought it, maybe had he not said it loud enough for my little man and everyone browsing Berber to hear, I might have. But he didn’t and I have a nasty temper.

Me, Mommy the Big Ass Bitch: You should really shut your mouth or turn your volume down.

Little Shit: Who you talkin’ to, lady?

Me, MBAB: I am speaking to you. If you don’t feel the need to use manners and common sense in public, especially when you’re teasing children 5 and under, you should really make sure that their mothers are normal.

Little Shit: Yo lady. Don’t get no attitude with me. (Please note that he is saying this to his friends earlobe, not DIRECTLY to me.)

Me, MBAB: I don’t have an attitude. I am simply making sure my children know that it’s okay to not be afraid of or intimidated by little punks (I know, I know...I should’ve used a nicer word. I explained the concept of anger and losing control of one’s mouth after it was all over) like you and that sometimes they will need to help others locate their decorum. You DO understand decorum, don’t you?

Little Shit: Whatever. That is my FAVORITE non-comeback. This means that you have no idea what to say next. I have used it myself on occasion. Yesterday.

It was at this point that Freddy asked me what the kid said, probably knowing that it was about him and his pee pee pants. I told him that they were jealous that they couldn’t twirl and tap dance like Dora. Yep, I lied. I don’t feel bad about it, just in case you were wondering. I am positive that life, at some point, will inject their beautiful carefree existence with all the crap humans must deal with. By the way, Dora was THRILLED that they found her twirls to be envy-inducing.


The sexperiment continues. We were tired last night after a day spent with the in-laws. Last night WOULD have been the night, under normal conditions, when we would’ve pecked each other on the cheek, snuggled for a minute, then rolled around (NOT stuck together) until our bodies found the comfy spot on our respective sides of the bed. But it happens that I am a persistent little cuss, and forced him to participate. In the end, it was quite would you say, cardio-friendly?! I’ll go with that. Cardio-friendly. Good, good times. It has been a WEEK already, as of today. Time seems to fly when you’re.....nevermind.


Becca said...

Oh I would have gone ALL Momma Bear on him too.

Mommy of Mayhem said...

I figured you would. ESPECIALLY since it took place at your favorite haunt. :)

Cheryl Lage said...

UGH! Little Sh**s like that are SOOOO scary to me in that if not confronted at least on an occasion or two in Home Depot by a caring adult (e.g. you) on the unacceptable nature of their behavior, they grow into Big sh**s.

THANK YOU for doing what you did. Mama Bear = good!