Sunday, December 4, 2011

I was my biggest pet peeve today.

Rumor has it in March, we're getting a Publix (which I can't help but call PUBIX in my mind) grocery store. Do you know what this MEANS?!?!?  NO MORE WALMART!  (Sorry Kroger, but you suck donkey balls.  Except when you have 10 for 10.  That's cool.  But your 10/10 stuff blows ass.  Someone had to say it.)

I'm sitting here with a cup of tea (green, if you please - Tazo Zen - is there any other kind?!) snuggling with Sampson (who insists on farting in his sleep, disgusting, but not as bad as it could be since my nose is plugged beyond belief), and thinking about the day.  Which pretty much sucked as much as Kroger does.  I'll not go into details, because it was a combination of things that resulted in a shitball day, but we ended up making a FAMILY trip to Walmart.  And not just any Walmart.  THE ghettoy of the ghetto Walmarts in town.  Why?  Because The Hubs was along "and the lines would be too long".  Oy.  Anyway.

Well, Captain Awesome was wearing his pissy pants, and The Preteen forgot her ears, and taking The Hubs to anywhere that has an electronics area is just stupid if you want to get in and out relatively quickly.  Add on the fact that I've been out of my "take one and the chance of a anxiety attack goes down a little" pills for a couple of days (because my doctor's office scheduling staff are EVIL and hate me) - this trip was doomed by the time we realized we weren't going to find a parking spot within 1/4 mile of the store.

I was one of THOSE people today, you guys.  I yelled at my kids in public.  I did.  I did it willingly and without shame (well, until now).  I might have even said fuck.  Twice.  In the Walmart Subway.  And I was still the least offensive person in there.  So I cried about it, hugged my kids 1000 bajillion infinity times since then, and cleaned up a massive pile of dog poop in repentance.  And I bought swiss cake rolls (why are they swiss?) for The Preteen's lunch tomorrow and Spaghettio's with sliced franks for Captain Awesome (nothing like some fat and MSG for my kids as a reward.  Shut up already.)

Can someone say something to make me feel better?  Please?  Because if you don't, I might be forced to eat a pint of ice cream that I may have bought and hid from everyone.  (It's Phish Food.  That shit is like currency around here.  And it's MINE.)


  1. Go for the ice cream It will make you feel better than any sort of kind words will.

  2. um, I say fuck in the Walmart ALL. THE. TIME. Were we not supposed to? They shoulda put up a sign or somethin'.

  3. Tiff, the ice cream was, as always, divoon, but covered with guilt syrup, so a couple of bites later, I put it back. Today is a new day though. ;)

    And Hoody... you can say fuck in WM. I don't know how you CAN'T, personally. But I said it out of anger and in front of my kids, and eh, I try not to do that. Try, being the operative word. But no one stared at me! Probably because I was the tamest parent in there yesterday. Yikes.

  4. The fact that you were probably the most well behaved person in Walmart should be
    some small amount of comfort.

    I think the Walmart turns people into raging psychos, so I think you are off the hook.
    You had no control over your rage and resulting bad behavior. Have yourself half a pint
    of Phish food and call it a day. You can go for super mom status tomorrow. Today just
    wasn't your day, apparently. :)

  5. Yell at them in public. It's better than beating the shit out of them in private. I used to want to not be one of those people, too. And I'm riddled with guilt like somebody shot me with a submachine gun. Like, I feel my life force dripping out of a million holes in my body at all of the imagined trauma I have inflicted upon my children, in public or otherwise.

    But the people around you have no idea, and you can just ignore them. You are the one who is furthering the human race by giving a shit about how your kids behave in public. And if that involves you behaving in a way you consider badly yourself, then so be it.

    They'll be thanking you later.

    Another thing: I would rather see a mother or father lose their shit completely than do that mother-on-valium "pleast stop, mommy doesn't like that" shit that so many people do. Whenever I hear that, I want to yell at them. And their kids.