Well,I knew it was bound to happen. Eventually. I’ve been racing against time for years now in a full-on effort to alleviate dealing with this issue. I understand it happens to us all and have tried to reason with myself to that fact. It still stings. It still digs deep. It still pains me.
Allow me to explain.
My sister, mom and I headed out this past weekend to visit our community’s holidaybazaar held at the local high school. We were actually afforded a break in weather and had a beautiful, sunny (albeit freezing cold) day to lift our rain-beaten spirits. I brought Avery along with me, her Hello Kitty wallet and purse in tote, to shop for crafts and quickly discovered some problems with my decision.
Problem one: Avery was misinformed regarding the term ‘bazaar’ and all it encompasses.
Avery: What is this place?
Me: It’s a bazaar, Avery. People bring their crafts and things here.
Me: Because they are trying to make a little extra money. You’ll see. It’s neat.
Avery: I don’t get it.
Me: What don’t you get? It’s crafts and stuff.
Avery: Um, okay. I don’t see any.
Me: See what?
Avery: Crafts and stuff.
Me: Because we haven’t actually gotten inside the main part of the bazaar yet. Be patient.
Avery: Can I buy a stuffed animal?
Me: Let’s wait and see what else is in there. Maybe there’s a craft or something you want to buy.
Avery: You mean like a snowman or something?
Me: Yeah, maybe a snowman.
Avery: I’d rather have a stuffed animal.
Me: Come on, Avery.
Problem two: Avery does not have a stellar grasp on the necessity for organization.
After much begging and pleading I finally acquiesed to allow Avery her stuffed animal. Another frickin’ stuffed animal. To join the other 472 sitting in her room. She finds a cocker spaniel whom she immediately names “Ginger” and pulls her wallet outof her purse.
Avery: My money’s in here. In my wallet. Just a sec.
She looks atthe vendor and smiles. The vendor looks back at her and…doesn’t smile.Moreover, she grimaces. Sheobviously was not enjoying her day.
As Avery zips open her wallet I realize it’s going to be a long transaction.Her wallet was stuffed fullto the brim and bursting at itszippered seams.I wasgrowing alittle unsure as to how she would locate the onelonely $5 dollar billamidst all the”important” paperwork filling her wallet. The frantic part of my personality was ready to just throw a 5-spot at the human gargoyle and get the heck out of Dodge. But, I could tell that purchasing the animal all by herself was important to Avery so I just stood back and inwardly seethed.
After rifling through used bandaids, sticker backings, playing cards, sticky notes and aboug 30 pounds of pennies, Avery located her $5.00 and proudly handed it to the lady.
Avery: Here you go. That’s $5.00 dollars.
Human Gargoyle: Here. (She handed Avery the cocker spaniel and then proceeded to scurry back into her hidey hole behind the sock monkeys.)
Problem Three: Okay, so here’s where the story gets even uglier. The real purpose of my post.
We continue to weave through the bazaar and we pass by these two young boys manning abooth with woodcarved crafts.
My sister says, “Wow. Look at that. They have a really nice booth.”
I said, “Yeah, it’s like a little workshop. Cute.”
The two teenage boys looked at each other, bashfully, and smiled. I thought, “aren’t they cute?”
This is when the horrible thing happened.
As we walked passed the boys I heard one boy say to the other one, “Dude…those two moms were totally hitting on you.”
Like a dagger to the chest. It was all I could do to keep from falling onto the ground and assuming the fetal position.
I’m a mom.
I mean, I’ve been aware of this fact since I experienced 3 stitches in the nether regions after birthing Avery, but I didn’t realize that other people (namely those younger types) would automatically assume it.
But, it is what it is and the fact of the matter is…I am a mom! A proud one at that. It’s a new, albeit more mature, identity thatnow after all ofmy pathetic whimpering I’vedecided to wholeheartedly embrace. You never know. I might even purchase a pair of mom jeans and move on to wearing moresensible shoes.
Oh Mindy…please don’t worry about the mother image you now have of yourself in your head. That’s a lovely way to be thought of actually. Many movie stars are moms you know. Wait until you purchase something at your local grocery store and upon mentioning to the clerk that she gave you too much money back she explains that it is senior citizen day and she gave you the discount. Even though I fear the toxic chemicals in hair dye I must admit I did briefly consider it.
Oh, the dreaded (but big bonus) senior citizen discount. I’m a few years off from that, but if the next couple decades go as quickly as the last I’ll be buying that blue hair rinse in no time at all. =)
Mindy!! – You totally made me laugh out loud. I’m glad I had already swallowed my coffee with sugar-free creamer. 🙂
My moment came at a stop light where I was checking out the cute guy next to me and suddenly I realized I was in a mini-van with car seats and he was a good 10 years younger.
Oh, God that made me laugh! I can totally imagine myself doing something just like that. =)
And, extra good job on the SF creamer! Those pounds will be melting off before you know it! =)
Are you kidding me? I missed the mom comments from the little jerks. I’m really hoping they didn’t seriously take that as flirting or I’ve really lost a lot of ground. Great, now I’m a creepy old lady cruising bazaars for fresh meat.
I choose to believe those boys were supremely flattered by the attention they received from “slightly” older women.
God, even that makes me sound pathetic. =)
First~ when I saw your title I got all excited and thought Jack had finally mastered potty-training! I was ready to do some serious celebrating with you!! (Vodka choc chip peppermint shakes anyone?)
How rude of the seller at the bazaar. She should have been nicer to Avery and thankful that she was making a sale. I hate rude salespeople!
Hahaha. I’m sorry. The mom thing cracks me up. I guess it’s because I can’t remember what my name was before it was Molly’s mom. Embrace your title lovingly. Because it doesn’t get bad until your walking beside your teenage daughter and realize all the guys are definately checking her out, not you. That is a sad moment, my friend.
You know, Spot. I didn’t even think about that but I bet it did sound like Jack had potty-trained. Nope. No such luck. Still sh*tting his pants like normal.
I have some friends with teenage daughters and they both have said the same thing as you. It’s a defining moment for sure. =)
hahaha! right – hitting on the youngsters….bless their hearts.
isn’t it odd when someone else points this out to you?
i think its because we are so aware of what we are that it’s a shock to the system to have it pointed out to us!
I’ve been “someone’s mama” for 7 years and it still blows me away when some kid calls me ma’am.
Yep, I get “ma’am” at the grocery store now. I remember the very first time…I’m pretty sure I scared the wit out of that poor kid with just the look on my face. Eek. =)
That sales lady needs to find another line of work, where she doesn’t have to offend people with her gargoyle face. Poor Avery, her wallet sounds like my purse!
â€œDudeâ€¦those two moms were totally hitting on you.â€
Yep. Avery and I have since done a little purging of the wallet contents. And I almost said something to the gargoyle about being rude but something told me that it just wouldn’t register with her. Oh, well. We can’t all be as sweet and bubbly as us. =)
The Park Wife says
Hilarious! Really, next time don’t be so obvious checking the woodworking boys mom.
It is an eye opener when we figure out we are grown-ups, when did that happen?
The Park Wife
Yeah, and the really sad thing about the whole story is the fact that we weren’t even checking the kids out. We were just being “moms” and trying to tease them a little. Oh, the shame. =)
A little more tweaking and you’ll have that Cougar thang down pat. RAWR!!
Gettin’ pretty close to having it PERFECTED. =)
The human gargoyle comment is hilarious. I see people like that too and you want to ask them, “I’m sorry. Am I bothering you?” Sounds like she needs to find another way to make a little extra money. This post is so funny. I went to graduate school as a single mom and ran with this group of friends, none of whom had kids. The most important adjective they could think of to describe me was “mom.” I know I’m so much more than that, but at the same time, if that’s the only thing I do well in this life, then I’m fine with that.
Marly – you hit the nail on the head. I completely agree with your last statement! It’s a pretty hefty job but one I’m glad I get to do. =)
Ugh, people make me sick sometimes. I dont get rudeness. I often break out in hives around children but you MUST be nice to them. They are our teachers.
Dont buy the mom jeans. They are depressing. I knew I was getting up there when I referred to the bag boy at the grocery store as “a nice young man” Yuck, just kill me now.
Yeah, I’m reconsidering the whole mom jeans. They do unflattering things to my muffin top. =)