Why do people ALWAYS show up when it is the very least convenient?
It never fails:
The children are playing peacefully with their educational, environmentally friendly toys. Their hair freshly washed and combed, teeth sparkly-white, clothes wrinkle-free and clean. The house is immaculate, smells nice, and a pie is in the oven. WHY can't people unexpectedly drop by to witness this? (Okay, yes-the answer is admittedly because "this" has never actually happened, but there are times that the kids are not fighting and we all look presentable at least.)
No, no. People want to show up when we look positively homeless. Case in point:
Yesterday I was sitting in the carport happily neglecting my housework and watching the kids play. I was wearing the worst of the worst, last-resort-laundry-day clothes, my hair had not yet seen a brush...and I looked the BEST out of all of us. The youngest was your typical RV park poster child, complete with snotty nose and chocolate-smeared face. He was in head-to-toe cammo, and his "shirt" was actually pajamas. The middle child was in shorts on a chilly day, and nothing else. My daughter did her own hair hours before, and had played hard since, making it look like I stuck her head in an electric mixer. She was sitting on her bike, fruitlessly pedaling and not going anywhere since the chain was dangling pitifully and obviously broken.
I did not have time to rush everyone inside, turn out the lights, and pretend we weren't available when the lady whom lives down the street slowed her car down to a pace that only meant one thing: she was stopping at our house. Let me explain that this isn't our cute, friendly old-lady neighbor from right next door. This is a woman we rarely talk to, and has earned herself a spot on my list of Top 5 Gossip Mongers I've Ever Known. The way I was positioned she could not see me and I couldn't see her. My truck was blocking me since I was sitting in a chair in front of it. Before I saw her I heard, "Where are your shoes?" and "Where is your momma...you're running around outside alone?"
During our "small talk" I had to repeatedly ask child #2 to stop swinging an extension cord around like a lasso. And child #3 was pushing a stroller around (and by "pushing" I mean ramming it into the wall at top speed repeatedly), which wouldn't have been a big deal except that it is very loud, and when pushed inside a carport the sound is echoed. It was basically a white trash three-ring circus.
To make matters worse, I couldn't get out of my chair to either distract the kids or for us to walk away from the commotion because I had my legs pulled up to cover my big belly buddy. We have managed to keep the pregnancy from most of our neighbors (only the cute little old ladies next door and across the street are in on our secret). So I looked like a fabulous mom with my out of control, misbehaving, unkempt kids while I jut sat there stupidly.
Gotta love people you barely know dropping by unexpectedly. :)
...It's ALMOST as bad as the Mormon boys knocking on your door while you're having a dance party with little kids in the living room and as you shamelessly do The Sprinkler they are staring dead at you through the window. And you only notice them as they walk away shaking their heads in a "that poor, lost soul" kind of way. Seriously-women whom have small children should be exempt from unannounced visitors!
Okay, I do feel better now.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
Bad Day...Disney Style
We went to Disney since daddy got two days off in a row. Our friends were going to be there the second day so we all hung out together, and I even decided to stay an extra day and catch a ride home with them. I thought the munchkins would sleep in a bit after staying up past their bedtime and running around the Magic Kingdom all day, but alas they sprang out of bed at 5:45.
We filled our bellies with "free continental breakfast", and left for the parks. The air inside Disney gates is different; it gifts one with the ability to see through a child's eyes and it's called The Happiest Place on Earth for a reason. Unless, of course, you are ME. Then you can expect a day slightly less magical...
We met up with our buddies at Hollywood Studios and stopped for lunch at the Commissary. Something went wrong in the kitchen so while our friends got their food, poor Rick was stuck waiting amongst a growing mob to get our meals. During the time he was waiting the rest of us were sitting at the table chatting. There was a family of two girls, a mom, and dad sitting to my right and out of the corner of my eye I noticed the mom looking at me (a feeling I am all too familiar with), and I turned towards her just in time to hear her say "...he squirted it on me...". And then I noticed she was covered in mayo. Literally from head to foot. It was on her clothes, up and down her back, and on her legs. Luke was returning her stare and was holding an empty condiment packet. My jaw dropped as I slowly put the pieces together, and I started apologizing. Luke was just sitting there nonchalantly without a clue what the fuss was over. He had some on his shirt, but nothing compared to his poor victim. He was playing with a packet of mayonnaise, and obviously he bent it at such an angle that it burst open and shot across the aisle onto the mom. I couldn't bring myself to tell her that it was all over the back of her head in her hair. After a minute or two she pointed out that it was even in the plant on the other side of their table. We all laughed about that. No wonder Americans are overweight; how much mayonnaise does one packet contain!?
After lunch we decided to see the Indiana Jones stunt show and immediately afterwards I asked Luke if he needed to go potty, to which he answered very convincingly "NO". The other kids went to go on a ride, and my kids stayed with me. The adults were talking when I heard Sarah screeching, "MOM!!!! MOM!!!! LOOK!!!!!!! OH NO, MOM!!!". She was pointing at Luke, who had the "oh no" look on his face, and a puddle forming at his feet. No one would have noticed if Sarah hadn't so kindly informed the surrounding area with her screaming and pointing. So in front of all the people around us, who were staring, I moved the stroller into a position to hide him somewhat and stripped off his wet clothes to change him into his spare outfit I always bring, but never have to use. After wiping him, changing his clothes, and putting his wet clothes into a bag, I started weighing my options. His shoes were completely soaked, dripping wet. I could either leave the park, buy shoes, and come back (by the time I did that I may as well stay at the hotel since it was getting dark already), or I could let him be that kid who runs barefoot in Disney (no), or I could spend my life's savings on shoes at a store on property (sigh, my only real option). Off we went in search of shoes...which happens to be surprisingly hard in December in Disney. Many castmembers informed us that after Summer, when the flip-flops run out of stock they are not replenished. Yay.
We finally found one store with some shoes left. As I was gaping in helpless horror at the price tags, Luke helped himself to our Coke and promptly dropped it. Coke splashed everywhere and I tried to cover the huge lake of sticky Coke with the stroller (to avoid causing someone injury) while I ran in search of paper towels. The young woman behind one of the counters got a roll of paper towels and a trash can and came over to clean up the mess. I was on the ground helping her, explaining that this was my last trip to Disney World after having passes since my middle child was 2, and I was having a hard time dealing with it. ...And that this was not the way I wanted to end my visits. Then I pointed out my barefoot, mayo-squirting, Coke-drenched child and told her we were there searching for shoes, but that they were $35, and I couldn't bring myself to spend that amount on shoes, even if they were really cute Mickey Mouse shoes. Then Luke grabbed a $20 pair of flip-flops and ripped the tag off right in front of her and I just looked at her with pathetic "I'm sorry" eyes. She said to hold on a minute, which I did because I felt downright defeated, and I was right in the middle of asking God if He was ruining my last Disney days on purpose to help me not miss it, when she reappeared and handed us the flip-flops with no charge. I was able to see the Osborne Lights once more because of the awesomeness of the Disney family.
Lots of other little things went wrong (my relentless, excruciating back pain, boys' bloody knees, rain...), but I will look back on those days with fondness and a smile. Because there's no such thing as a bad day at Disney!
We filled our bellies with "free continental breakfast", and left for the parks. The air inside Disney gates is different; it gifts one with the ability to see through a child's eyes and it's called The Happiest Place on Earth for a reason. Unless, of course, you are ME. Then you can expect a day slightly less magical...
We met up with our buddies at Hollywood Studios and stopped for lunch at the Commissary. Something went wrong in the kitchen so while our friends got their food, poor Rick was stuck waiting amongst a growing mob to get our meals. During the time he was waiting the rest of us were sitting at the table chatting. There was a family of two girls, a mom, and dad sitting to my right and out of the corner of my eye I noticed the mom looking at me (a feeling I am all too familiar with), and I turned towards her just in time to hear her say "...he squirted it on me...". And then I noticed she was covered in mayo. Literally from head to foot. It was on her clothes, up and down her back, and on her legs. Luke was returning her stare and was holding an empty condiment packet. My jaw dropped as I slowly put the pieces together, and I started apologizing. Luke was just sitting there nonchalantly without a clue what the fuss was over. He had some on his shirt, but nothing compared to his poor victim. He was playing with a packet of mayonnaise, and obviously he bent it at such an angle that it burst open and shot across the aisle onto the mom. I couldn't bring myself to tell her that it was all over the back of her head in her hair. After a minute or two she pointed out that it was even in the plant on the other side of their table. We all laughed about that. No wonder Americans are overweight; how much mayonnaise does one packet contain!?
After lunch we decided to see the Indiana Jones stunt show and immediately afterwards I asked Luke if he needed to go potty, to which he answered very convincingly "NO". The other kids went to go on a ride, and my kids stayed with me. The adults were talking when I heard Sarah screeching, "MOM!!!! MOM!!!! LOOK!!!!!!! OH NO, MOM!!!". She was pointing at Luke, who had the "oh no" look on his face, and a puddle forming at his feet. No one would have noticed if Sarah hadn't so kindly informed the surrounding area with her screaming and pointing. So in front of all the people around us, who were staring, I moved the stroller into a position to hide him somewhat and stripped off his wet clothes to change him into his spare outfit I always bring, but never have to use. After wiping him, changing his clothes, and putting his wet clothes into a bag, I started weighing my options. His shoes were completely soaked, dripping wet. I could either leave the park, buy shoes, and come back (by the time I did that I may as well stay at the hotel since it was getting dark already), or I could let him be that kid who runs barefoot in Disney (no), or I could spend my life's savings on shoes at a store on property (sigh, my only real option). Off we went in search of shoes...which happens to be surprisingly hard in December in Disney. Many castmembers informed us that after Summer, when the flip-flops run out of stock they are not replenished. Yay.
We finally found one store with some shoes left. As I was gaping in helpless horror at the price tags, Luke helped himself to our Coke and promptly dropped it. Coke splashed everywhere and I tried to cover the huge lake of sticky Coke with the stroller (to avoid causing someone injury) while I ran in search of paper towels. The young woman behind one of the counters got a roll of paper towels and a trash can and came over to clean up the mess. I was on the ground helping her, explaining that this was my last trip to Disney World after having passes since my middle child was 2, and I was having a hard time dealing with it. ...And that this was not the way I wanted to end my visits. Then I pointed out my barefoot, mayo-squirting, Coke-drenched child and told her we were there searching for shoes, but that they were $35, and I couldn't bring myself to spend that amount on shoes, even if they were really cute Mickey Mouse shoes. Then Luke grabbed a $20 pair of flip-flops and ripped the tag off right in front of her and I just looked at her with pathetic "I'm sorry" eyes. She said to hold on a minute, which I did because I felt downright defeated, and I was right in the middle of asking God if He was ruining my last Disney days on purpose to help me not miss it, when she reappeared and handed us the flip-flops with no charge. I was able to see the Osborne Lights once more because of the awesomeness of the Disney family.
Lots of other little things went wrong (my relentless, excruciating back pain, boys' bloody knees, rain...), but I will look back on those days with fondness and a smile. Because there's no such thing as a bad day at Disney!
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