>Pffft

>May I tell you about my day? I had to go into our little town to get my husband a birthday present.

Here is how it all went down. True Story.

3 minute shower cause husband watching kid while he is supposed to be working.
3 more minutes to dress, semi blow dry hair, swipe on lip-gloss, swipe on deoderant and try to look vaguely human.
Shove wiggly kid into some sort of clean outfit weeded from the unfolded clean laundry scattered on the floor.
Wrestle kid into shoes and socks. And I do mean wrestle.
Plop kid in highchair and spend 38 minutes trying to coerce him into eating 13 peas and 2 orange segments.
Cram last nights stir fry leftovers down gullet with a milk chaser straight from the carton.
Realize kid has gotten orange dribbles all over his sleeves.
Briefly consider changing him again, but realize orange dribbles will be hidden under sweater, so leave him dirty.
Run a wet wipe over his skanky head to make him look freshly bathed.
Wrestle kid into sweater.
Put on own shoes, blocking pudgy hands that keep trying to untie shoe you just tied.
Lug kid to car and wrestle him into car seat.
Whisper sweet nothings as he pulls the old “shrieking stiff as a board” trick to try to prevent you from buckling him in.
Pull out of garage. Stop Car. Run back in house for forgotten purse.
Drive downtown, search for parking spot.
Rummage through purse to find some quarters for the meter, realize you have no quarters in purse. Rummage on floor of vehicle, come up with three linty quarters.
Wrestle kid into stroller, repeating whispering of sweet nothings.
Go into store number one.
Pick up giant display rack of keychains that kid immediately sends crashing to the floor. Yea. That was loud.
Smile apologetically as kid starts shrieking because, he meant to knock that over and you ruined it.
Try to find item husband desires.
Fail.
Ask.
Sigh at the knowledge that they do not carry that item any longer.
Pick a different, slightly similar new item, and hope husband understands.
Smile apologetically, cause kid is still shrieking.
Shove nearest baby safe item you can find (toy radio) into kids hands to shut him up.
Smile apologetically when kid resumes shrieking because cashier needs toy radio back to ring you up.
Give item back to Shrieky McScreamer, only to discover he is now bored with toy you just shelled out $19.99 for.
Stroll across street to store number 2, for a card.
Smile apologetically as all turn to stare at the shrieker, who at this point is so red and splotchy from crying, everyone thinks you are an abuser.
Take child out of stroller to try to calm him.
Navigate stroller with one arm through narrow aisles while other arm grips child and tries to keep him from grabbing things.
Switch arms often because you are flabby and weak.
Pick first card that says “To My Husband”.
Wrestle the card out of child’s mouth.
Discretely put that card back and choose another with no bite marks.
Make your way to register.
Smile at all the college students (we live in a college town) and wonder if you ever really looked that young? Also wonder if you ever looked that firm.
Feel very old.
Feel slightly depressed, but try to ignore it.
Smile apologetically as kid in your arms kicks over 7 green plastic beer mugs on display for St. Patricks Day.
Briefly reminisce about past St. Patrick’s Days when you were firm and drank green beer.
Shake back to reality as kid pulls your hair HARD.
Make your way to register. Answer politely when the cashier asks you for the 900th time that week “where did he get his red hair, he looks nothing like you!”.
Seethe.
Wonder if pulling down pants to show cashier your flabby c-section belly would prove you are the mother.
Decide that is bad idea.
Try to shift kid to other arm so your good arm can wrangle your wallet out to pay for cards.
Fart loudly. (yes, I did.)
Turn red, but try to pretend you did nothing.
Do not look cashier in the eye.
Grab card and hightail it the hell out of there.
Wrangle kid back into stroller.
Wrangle kid back into carseat.
Give him back overpriced toy radio since he has started shrieking again.
Decide you need iced coffee immediately.
Scream obscenities at asshat that cuts in front of you in McDonalds drive through.
Feel guilty for screaming obscenities since child is in car.
Try to use your soothing Mommy voice since child is now hysterical.
Gulp down iced coffee as you try to fight back the tears.
Arrive home.
Wrangle hysterical child out of car seat.
Get in house and wrestle hysterical child out of shoes and sweater.
Almost burst into tears again when child catches sight of Daddy and immediately starts grinning, giggling and cooing.
Plop yourself back on couch where you belong, attach child to boob so he will hopefully zonk out.
Fail at soothing child to nap.
Listen to child play with confounded toy radio that is loud and seriously regret buying it.
Silently seethe at Daddy for being nervy enough to have a birthday.
Resolve to never leave the house again.
Fart a few more times.

The End.

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9 Responses to “>Pffft”


  1. 1 Photogrl March 12, 2009 at 8:15 pm

    >Oh, man. What a lousy day.It will get better.((HUGS))

  2. 2 C Lo March 12, 2009 at 8:22 pm

    >lolthere is so much there that is MY DAY I can’t even believe it.yeah, I love the “He looks nothing like you” comments. It’s like “Hey, do you REALLY THINK you’re the first genius to say that!?”

  3. 3 Beautiful Mess March 12, 2009 at 8:42 pm

    >WHEW! What an exhausting day. Photogirl is right, it does get better. I still think you should blame your husband, though. How DARE he have a birthday, THE nerve! Here’s hoping the rest of your say is better!

  4. 4 Niksmom March 12, 2009 at 9:00 pm

    >gotta tell you, when I saw your tweet about farting, I nearly peed myself laughing. BTDT (been there…).Next person that mentions the red hair/doesn’t look like you? Tell them you stole him from the gypsies and to shut the F up. No? Um, ok. How ’bout “Oh, gosh, I’ve never heard that one before!”

  5. 5 eden March 13, 2009 at 4:12 am

    >Better than you farting loudly is you BLOGGING about farting loudly. Amen, sista!I have your sons identical twin, down here in Australia. What time can you come get him?XOXOXOX

  6. 6 MJMILLS March 13, 2009 at 4:11 pm

    >aww poor thing! Just imagine how many calories you burned! and how much gas you rid! hahahha. im glad im not the only one almost driven to tears on outings like that! it’s good to know im not alone. at least you dont get the “awwww what a handsome lil boy!!!” when i kindly tell them “SHE has a VAGINA, not a PENIS!!!!” you want me to show you!??!?! then realize i better not!!!! kinda like you and the c-sec scar! haha LOVE IT!

  7. 7 Mrs. Gamgee March 13, 2009 at 10:32 pm

    >I’m sorry you had such a lousy day. thank you for having enough humour to share it with us… Thank you for the laugh, and take care of you!

  8. 8 Kristin March 21, 2009 at 4:00 pm

    >Isn’t it amazing how hauling a kid along quadruples the amount of time it takes to run an errand.I think you should start telling people you found him in a cabbage patch and decided to keep him when they comment that you don’t look alike.~ICLW

  9. 9 Ashley March 21, 2009 at 5:44 pm

    >There’s a pretty strong recessive red hair gene in my family (most of us are brunettes, but i have one uncle and 2 cousins who are carrottops) and my hubby’s side has red undertones pretty commonly. I figure there’s a good chance we’ll get a kid with some sort of red hair.That sucks that people ask that, but good to know in case I deal with it. Red hair babies are so cute!


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