Wednesday, June 26, 2013
The Day I Was Bossed.
Ohhhh you guys.
The other day I had to run into the restroom and check the mirror to make sure I didn't have the words "BOSS ME" written across my forehead in bright red ink.
Everywhere I went, everyone I ran into felt the need to tell me what to do.
It all started at swim lessons. It was the fourth day of lessons and by that point all of us moms had established our "seats", and we all returned to the same place every morning. It's not like we had to sit in our spots - we all just happened to. Creatures of habit, I guess.
This particular morning, I was one of the first ones there and saw that my spot hadn't been claimed, so I walked over and began to throw our things on the chair and make myself comfortable. An older lady (clearly a grandmother), who had never once been to these lessons appeared out of nowhere and said in a rude, loud, and curt voice, "Um. You can't sit there. My daughter is sitting there."
I apologized, gathered up my things and sat a few seats over. I thought she could have been about 1000 times sweeter/kinder, but hey - that's just some people. Authoritative and down to business. Clearly. And if she had saved it for her daughter that was absolutely no biggie - I didn't care - just be nice about it.
So, I kept my eye on her throughout the lessons, waiting for her daughter to take up residence in my beloved chair. Finally she came out to sit down and guess where she sat? On the OTHER side of her mother, leaving MY chair completely free!
I got bossed. For no reason whatsoever. What I wanted to do was gather up my things and plop myself down in that chair. But I didn't. I just huffed and puffed and let my blood pressure do it's thing. (Sky rocket.)
Husby told me I needed to do a vlog from swim lessons for you guys and call it "Swim Moms", a spin off of Dance Moms. ;)
After lessons, we headed to get Levi's hair cut. It was a circus in there - kids riding tricycles every which way, jumping down slides and throwing toys. One little boy, probably 7 or 8 rode right up to me and just sat there. Staring.
I looked at him and smiled.
He continued to stare.
I smiled again, and he just sat there. Staring at me like I was one of the characters on Monsters U.
We had a weirdly awkward staring/smiling session going and then he pops off in the rudest tone known to man, "WHAT?"
COMPLETELY taken aback as to what had just happened, I replied, "Oh, I was just smiling at you!"
What I wanted to say was, "What do you mean WHAT?! You're the one staring at ME you little hoodlum!"
Manners. It is the most refreshing thing in the world speaking to a child with manners and a respect for adults. A lost art, I'm afraid.
So, at this point I'm like "what is UP with people being flat out rude today? Grandmas & children alike!" By now I am putting all my faith in the middle aged. You know, people my age that can relate to being a mom of little ones and have a sympathy for the crazy busy shopping trips.
And then I went to Target.
In the midst of wrangling the babies - one on my hip and the other one running every which way asking if he can have everything, I was trying to get all my things onto the conveyer belt and properly check out. Ezra had HAD it and was ready for a nap - squiggling, wiggling, squealing and DONE. In order to appease him for just a few more minutes, I put him in the buggy so I could contain him and handle the cashing out process.
He stood there (in the big part, not where your legs dangle) playing happily and laughing as I put my few bags in the buggy with him. I then hear the cashier say, "Did you HEAR me? I SAID it's not going to be safe much longer with him in the cart with those bags you're putting in there."
Yes. The five bags I had were really going to cause a catastrophic event for my child.
Irate at her tone of voice and her need to tell me what to do with my child, I ignored her.
"Did you HEAR me?" she asked again.
And I ignored her again.
I'm such a good example of Christ, aren't I? (NO!) But at this point I had absolutely HAD it with everyone telling me what to do in super rude voices that I knew if I opened my mouth it wasn't going to be polite, so I just played the hard of hearing card and went about my business, fumbling with the debit card machine and acting far too interested in the questions it was asking me.
Rubbing my forehead all the while, hoping to smear off that blasted boss me sign someone had obviously written on there that day.
I mustered up the strength to tell her "thank you" when she handed me my receipt and after that, I decided it was time to call it a day and go home.
Where I'm the boss.
Well, until Husby gets home, that is. :)
And let me tell you, he got an ear full that night. And when he didn't have the over-the-top incredulous reaction I was hoping to get from him .... I bossed him and told him he needed to freak out more.
Gotta love my level headed, even tempered Husby!
Posted by Whitney at 12:07 AM