Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Well Dang

So I was going to write about my family's plight.  How my youngest son came down with the snots on Wednesday.  Followed by me who felt like fried poop on a stick on Friday/Saturday.  And then my oldest also contracting this nasty virus on Sunday-ish.  And my husband coming home yesterday and telling me that he barely made it through the last hour of work.  But then I read Calah's post about her son swelling after getting MMR and Varicella vaccines (which incidentally the Rubella and Varicella are made from baby dna.  And now you can't separate the MMR in the US.  I'm just saying since my kids will not be getting those two for those reasons I breathe a sigh of relief.)  And naturally, I think well, dang.  What have I got to complain about.

I mean five days where my oldest hasn't slept during nap (except today) and wore himself down to nothing at night.  Where his nose looks like its a dripping mucus plug (yeah, I'm grossed out too.  But at least you don't have to wipe it.).  Where he whines and clings to me every night.  And so yesterday I dragged myself to Wally World and bought him Hyland's and children's chewables because now he's two.  In fact HB didn't want me to leave until I told him that I was going to "buy him some medicine" and didn't he want to feel better.  He understands feeling better as he naturally finds me over every bump and asks me to "kiss it" these days.  "yes," he told me.  He wanted medicine to feel better.  Getting a toddler to say yes only happens when they really want something so you know he felt bad.  I also went to give away my personal information to a clerk so I can buy the "good stuff" that people make into meth.  And to sign that there is indeed no meth lab in my house.  And that my intentions are to give it to my husband who is stuffed up.

So there I am gathering meds for my kids and next to me on the right is a set of prophelactics.  I'm checking the backs of boxes to make sure what I'm buying is age appropriate and see someone out of the corner of my eye.  So what does one do by instinct:  turn your head.  And there's some college kid buying condoms.  I got the deer in head lights look and he did too and we both looked away and pretended that we didn't see each other.  Then he moved off and I had to chuckle.  Because I'm buying cold medicine for my kid and here's this guy who clearly doesn't want kids, but he wants sex.  If I hadn't felt it a bit over-reaching, I might have mentioned that if he didn't watch it in a few years he'd be in my shoes:  looking at the bottles of cold medicines for his own kid.  Just say pre-marital sex.  Clearly he knew it was wrong or else he wouldn't have cared if some mom knew what his escapades were about.

And then I had my WIC checks so I went ahead and loaded up because Hubby isn't authorized yet so when I felt miserable he did the weekly shopping minus the WIC.  I get my stuff and wait in line.  The guy behind me has two items: ground beef and beer.  Barbeque?  I let him pass ahead.  The lady behind me with a shopping cart full of bananas starts chanting something about going to Walmart because we're poor.  I hope she felt embarrassed for herself when she watched me sort out my WIC and then have the store manager come help the clerk ring me up.  She kept mightily quiet after that.  So why was she at Walmart?  She claimed to the next woman behind her that it was because it was on her way home from work. 

I didn't let her jump ahead.  Not because I had already started because I hadn't.  Nope.  I wanted her to feel bad for herself.  For making fun of Walmart and for picking on "poor" people like me.  Hey, I never said I was a candidate for sainthood.  Right now, I'd be lucky if I was slated for purgatory.

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