MOMMY AND I HATE SHOPPING

A screw on my glasses was threatening to leave on a permanent vacation, so I brought them (and my two-year-old daughter) to the mall.  After spending all of fifteen minutes at the optical shop-where my daughter kept repeating "no shots, no shots, no shots," like someone with severe PTSD-we went to this little play area to, you know, play.  I don't particularly like the mall because it is boring and suburban (thus boring), but it was a rainy day and I figured if we drove all that way, we might as well make it count somehow.

There were several other families in the play area.  On three separate occasions, in the span of about thirty minutes, my daughter was mistaken for a boy.  Now, I don't personally care about this and I made no effort to correct the adults, but I do find it curious.  My daughter was dressed in a bright yellow shirt with a picture of Curious George munching on a banana.  She was also wearing light turquoise pants with little pink hearts on the waistband with white and black "cow" socks.  This outfit I blindly pulled from her drawers that morning.  Really, she could have passed for a girl or a boy but I find it interesting that a) nobody asked, and b) all three assumed she was male.  Now n=3, so this isn't science or anything, but I began to wonder, do people just assume your kid is a boy if he/she isn't dressed in fluffy pink frills?  What cues do we look for when determining sex?  What informs that decision?

So anyway, as we are driving home I say to my child, "Well Honey Bear, that was the mall.  Did you totally hate it?"

Her reply?  An emphatic "yes!"

I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON

Yesterday's Encounter With Crazy reminded me of another imteraction that took place a few months ago.

I was bringing my kids to the YWCA, and as usual, they were bickering with each other about who gets to press the button for the automatic door.  As we walk through, this older woman says to me, "that entrance should be reserved for people with disabilities!"

I replied, "It's very useful to me when I'm carrying my child and our many bags.  Besides, how does our use of this door negatively impact you?"

Her response?  It wastes electricity.  But that's not all!  She told me I am setting my children up to be LIFELONG ENERGY WASTERS.

I just want it to be known, oh dear readers, that I am a horrible, terrible person.

Wow, that feels great, getting that off my chest.  I am no longer LIVING A LIE.

Yeeesh.

LET'S FACE IT. AS A SPECIES, WE'RE FUCKED

Today was a beautiful day.  So I took my daughter on a walk to the store to buy some things for dinner.  We were nearly home, walking though the alleyway to the backyard when we see a big black SUV coming our way.  I move out of the vehicle's path (because it's going pretty fast) while I continue my conversation with my daughter.

Suddenly, the SUV screeches to a halt and the driver sticks her head out the window and yells in a hostile voice, "what did you just say!?"

I repeat my most recent sentence verbatim, "do you want to go home and watch happy baby?"

The driver says, "what??"

I say again, "uhh...do you want to go home and watch happy baby.  I was talking to my daughter."

So she says, "you better just keep walking?"

I can't believe I'm actually having this conversation.

"Or what?" I ask.

"Fuck you."  She answers.

Really people?? Really?

I need a beer.

TITLE NINE

Our nanny recently turned 22.  For her birthday I thought about getting her a $50 gift card for the clothing company Title Nine because she seems to like bright colors and she is VERY physically active.  So I asked her before buying the gift card if she had ever heard of it and would she ever buy something from that store.  She said yes, she has flipped through the Title Nine catalogs I get in the mail and that type of clothing, "is, like, exactly the type of clothing that, like, I want to wear when I am a mom."

Ugh, you guys!  She didn't have to say "mom."  What she really meant to say, was "old."

SCHOOL'S OUT FOR SUMMER

Does anyone want to come over and look at dryer lint under my dissecting microscope??  #nerdsonvacation

THE MIGHTY POWER OF TINY DOGS

I don't care how tall you are.  I don't care how hairy your chest is or how firm your abs are.  I don't care how low your voice is and I don't care how you are hung.  If you are walking a dog that is less than fifteen pounds, all of your masculinity has been sapped by that pooch.  I'm not saying that's a good or bad thing.  I'm just saying.  It's a thing.

Some people draw strength from adversity.  Others derive it from loved ones.  Not me.  I get most of my strength from this Adventure Time underwear.  KaPOW!