Showing posts with label Christmas shopping horrors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas shopping horrors. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

THE EFF WORD


Last week I told you about how Daughter #1 gave me some embarrassing moments as she was growing up. Raising two girls to adulthood has provided me with an endless supply of anecdotes to amuse and confuse. As promised, D1 wasn’t the only one who managed to make me squirm a little in my boots.

When Daughter #2 was a toddler, she had an absolutely irritating adorable way of getting our attention. She chanted. I guess that came in handy as a cheerleader in her teens but as a little tyke……not so much.

She couldn't quite pronounce the word “milk” correctly and when she wanted some, she would say “mook”……………………….”mook”…………………..”mook”….”MOOK!”…”MOOK!

"MOOK!MOOK!MOOK!MOOK!

The chanting would get louder and more frequent until she received a boot in the arse the milk. It wasn’t just beverage requests that would make her chant. Allow me tell you about a little shopping experience we had when D2 was about two years old.

If you’ve ever been in Victoria’s Secret at Christmas time, you know that any purchase will not be completed without the required 30 minute wait in line. I was “selected” by my employer at the time to shop for some lotions and potions to go along with Christmas bonuses. My Harley Stud (who didn’t have a Harley then but was still a stud, nonetheless) was working and I found myself having to haul my two children to the mall and into VS to get said lotions and potions.

D2 was in a stroller and D1 was walking alongside me. The store was packed (DUH!) and it was not easy maneuvering a stroller through the chaos. I quickly grabbed what I needed and headed to that very long line that led to the checkout counter. I took one look at the line and quickly determined that the wait would be more pleasant for all concerned without the stroller. I led D1 and the stroller with D2 over to a lotion display about 10 feet away from where I was standing in line. I told D1 to entertain her sister and just move the stroller back and forth a little bit because she liked to keep moving. I got in line and began to relax and listen to the lovely classical music playing and take in all the aromas from the perfumes being tested, all the while keeping an eye on the big and the little just a few feet away.

All was going well for about 5 minutes. Then the peaceful melody was broken by a young child telling her older sister, “Fart on you!” My eyes widened! I cringed. I hoped. I crossed my fingers. I prayed. It was all for naught because the chanting was about to begin. I don’t know what D1 did to tick off D2 but she was TICKED! It started out low and slow and increased in volume and speed with each repetition.

“Fart on you!……..fart on you……fart on you!..FARTONYOUFARTONYOUFARTONYOU! and on and on.

Would you think less of me if I told you that I didn’t give up my place in line? I just stood there with the rest of the crowd looking appalled at the audacity of some women to bring their bratty children into this fine establishment and ruin my shopping experience! Oh yes I did.