Other People’s Children
Do I dare hit post? It’s a little like seeing a lady walking around the mall with gross toilet paper trailing behind her. She’s too far away to run up and warn her, so you just say “Bless her heart!” An hour later karma strikes when you find your kids candy smeared on your bum. How long has it looked like I had poop smeared where? Bless my own dang heart!
Yesterday I met Ray at the bank. As we walked inside we saw a minivan chock full of kids. The windows were down, music was blaring, ac running at high speed and kids jumping like monkeys from one seat to another. Ray and I were the only adults in sight. My heart stopped for a minute. Ray turned and said, “Would you do that? You wouldn’t? Would you?” Um. No. If I left all four kids in a car while I went to wait in a 20 minute bank line, Bria would decide to drive herself over to the mini mart for a pop while her sisters white knuckled it in the back with Jack singing If Your Happy And You Know it. No, I wouldn’t do that. I dare not judge though because the kids were only jumping around the van like monkeys. It wasn’t in drive or reverse. Parking break maybe on maybe off.
I will admit I understand the temptation. Waiting in line at a bank with four kids is like the second level in hell right? Mama is the word used every.5 seconds. The ten year old needs to tell you a LONG story. The four year old is trying to wander off. The five year old is whining because someone somewhere has something that she doesn’t and the twelve year old is rolling her eyes at everything that dares to make any form of eye contact, not limited to but including people on the TV and small dancing dolls. Somewhere between the 534th Mama, the fiftieth redirect, the 333rd threat you think leaving them in the car with the engine running is the best idea ever! And then there’s this..
After the bank we went for lunch. We watched 9 guys unload from one firetruck and two ambulances to idle their way inside the exchange. We were almost done. I decided to hurry a bit. By the time I walked back into the store all nine were making their way off the elevator, to a mom in the discount beauty section. Her child had flipped out of the cart and landed on her face. Oh my gracious that poor baby and her Mama. Why wasn’t she buckled? Oh that’s right, after learning to say no they learn to unbuckle and scream mercilessly until you put them in the basket where they reach and sway and jerk for every item just out of their reach. Plus, I was the mom that blacked Hanan’s eye trying to keep her from falling. Ooops. No judgement over here just get that poor kid some ice!
Of course my neighbors are chatting about me too. There is a child in our neighborhood who happens to be younger than my third. She appears in people’s houses like an apparition. If your doors are unlocked and she knows your name, chances are good that she may appear one day in your kitchen. It’s like that book, If You Give A Mouse A Cookie. If she knows your name and your doors are unlocked, she might come into your house. If she’s in your house, she’ll want a Coke. If you give her a coke, she’ll want a cookie and your remote and so it goes…I was just saying I can’t imagine Bria just walking into someone’s house when… last weekend. I was painting. She was following Hanan and her buddy around. They were all going to play Just Dance. I heard the chorus of angels with a moment of silence so I wouldn’t dribble paint again… then about 10 minutes later Bria walked into the garage, bicycle helmet still firmly on her head. I asked her where she’d been… “I went into the Thomases house. I’m sorry. I thought that’s where Harlow and Hanan were playing.” Someone please Bless My Heart!