Tuesday, 7 January 2014

I Want My Baby Back

Whenever I find myself asking the question, "Do you think I'm overreacting?" I generally know that the answer is Yes, totally and completely overreacting.  That being said, the people close to me know that there is absolutely no point in disputing what I'm about to say and that it's generally for the best to let me rage, rant, spin, like a top, because eventually I'll slow down, come to a halt, likely out of breath.

Recently we went clothes shopping for the minions.  Jack needed new (used) pants because he's hit a growth spurt and it isn't exactly warm enough for exposed ankles right now.  On a shopping mission like, this divide and conquer is usually the best technique.  Chris supervised Jack in the toys area while searching for "inspirational" potty training books* while Molly and I looked in the size 2 section for clothes.

Stroller Storm from last year, doing daycare pick-up

After we selected three pairs of pants, some sweatshirts that were on sale, a copy of Bunnicula and a book of potty training poems, I lined up while Molly joined Jack to play.

While I was at the cash register, Molly ran over to me pushing a dolly in a toy stroller.  I chatted with her while the cashier rang through my items.  Another employee walked over to ask if I was going to be purchasing the stroller.  I said no.  A grandmother in the periphery got a price check and said that she would take the stroller, which the employee told Molly she needed to see and took away, handing the dolly back to Molly.  Molly was confused, but fine.  I was going to ask her to put the dolly back and say good-bye to it in a moment anyway.  As I handed over my cash to pay for our items the grandmother turned to the employee and said, "I'll take the doll too." at which point the staff member took the baby away from Molly.

Molly turned to me, tears welling up in her eyes and began yelling, "Maaa baby, Maaa baby." The woman laughed maniacally and thunder bolts clapped within the store while Molly wept, at which point I called Chris and Jack and ushered everyone out of the store muttering to myself and speaking in tongues.  When Chris asked what was wrong I told her about the grandmother who was too impatient to wait for me to cash out and leave.  I know we weren't buying it, but come on!  You can't wait for me to finish my transaction and leave the store?  Are you late for your appointment tormenting children at the orphanage where you'll set the toy a blaze in the sick child ward?  I have a brilliant idea, why not let me be the bad guy instead of ripping the toy out of a toddler's hands and wait two minutes, 120 seconds.

I pointed her out to Chris in the parking lot.  She was easy to spot, she was the lady in the Dalmatian fur coat.

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*If you had told me that this would be something I'd be actively pursuing five years ago I would have laughed at you.  Yes 30 year old Sara, this is your life now.  You'll be handing out stickers to toddlers when they go on the potty.

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