I Am A Gross Mom - Part Two

Olivia and I walked through Penney's and into the mall. I was feeling pretty good about shopping because I walk approx. 4 miles per hour and she was keeping up without trouble. Ahead, I could see the hand lotion/nail guy and he already had me in his cross-hairs. I turned to Olivia and said, "Stick with me, kid" and made like I was really interested in what Hallmark had displayed in their window.

"Oh miss, could I please see your hand?"

Crap.

"Oh-a...scusi scusi...my-a Eeegnleesh...itsa..."

"Mama, why are you waving your arms around and talking like that?"

Kid busted me. Not something I'll soon forget. Little traitor.

"This buffer makes your nails look freshly manicured without the manicure."

"Oh no...I'm fine...really..."

"...only $29.95 and I also have hand lotion...have a sniff..."

"I'm allergic."

With that, I grabbed Olivia's hand and bolted away with the man chasing after us.

"What did I say about the man with the sponge, Olivia?"

"But, Mama, it's rude to ignore somebody when they speak to you."

Damn school teaching my kid proper etiquette.

"Yes, Olivia, you are correct."

We scurried into Macy's and headed straight to the section that had work-ish looking clothes. I grabbed a dress off of the rack and found a mirrored support post. I held the dress up to the front of me while turning from side to side so I could see how it looked from all angles. "This dress makes my butt look big," I said to myself and returned it to the rack. I turned towards Olivia so she would know that I was walking to another area and...she wasn't there! Frantically, I looked around, jumping so I could see over the racks, and spotted her getting a drink from the water fountain!

Crap.

"Olivia, we're going to get something for lunch after shopping and you can have a drink then so...NONONONONONO...do NOT put your mouth on the fountain!"

My earlier good feeling about shopping immediately vanished.

I finished up with Macy's as quickly as possible with my child constantly yipping, "...but, Mama, how do you know it will fit if you don't try it on?" My response: "I just do...it's one of my super-powers." Olivia accepted this explanation without question because it is common knowledge that, indeed, I am a super-hero. (I'm also a rock star. I know this because Olivia sometimes wears a t-shirt that says, "My mom is a Rock Star!" It's brown and pink with lots of sparkles. The sparkles make it true.)

We made it through Ann Taylor without incident and headed for The Gap.

"Mama, I have to go potty."

Crap.

"Just wait a few minutes, Olivia. We'll be finished soon."

"Mama, I really have to go...I can't hold it!"

Crap. Crap. Damn department stores with their conveniently located water fountains to keep their customers properly hydrated.

"Okay, let's go across to Nordstrom and you can use their restroom." I was actually fine with this because Nordy's has the only public restroom I feel safe entering.

We took the escalator to the 2nd floor and headed towards the bathroom, which is located next to lingerie. "Hmm...I probably should buy some new bras," I thought.

(If you are beginning to sense that trouble's a-brewin', you are absolutely correct.)

After the restroom, we walked onto the lingerie floor. I need to interject that I absolutely loathe bra shopping. There are the obvious reasons but also the inevitable question from the salesgal which is, "Have you been fitted for a bra before?"

Crap.

I uttered a very reluctant, "No..." because the prospect of standing in a small dressing room nekkid from the waist up with a complete stranger is 100% appalling to me. "Let's do that first and then I'll bring you some bras," and off to the dressing rooms we went.

The salesgal wrapped a measuring tape around me and said, "Okay...I'll be right back and we'll try on some bras!" Oh joy...in front of a quite perky 22 year old gal...and me with the child nursing and the gravity and the child nursing. Did I mention that she was perky?

Olivia was seated in front of me when she returned with four bras. "Go ahead, take off your shirt and bra and we'll try on the first one." I did as instructed and the minute my bra was away from my skin, the room was filled with...

"UGH! That is DISGUSTING! Mama, put your shirt back on...NOW!"

Crap.

"Oh Mama, that is just NASTY!"

Child so loud.

"Olivia, indoor voice please...yeah this bra feels fine."

The salesgal said, "Great...go ahead and remove the bra and we'll try on another. Sweetie, why don't you turn around so you don't have to watch?"

Not only is child so loud but also...child so smart. Again, I blame the school because there's no way she's getting those brains from home.

"Um...there's a mirror hell-oo...I can still see what's...YUCK! Mama, I did NOT need to see THAT! This is for private time only and not when other people can see! GROSS! Mama, put those things away!"

"This one feels good, too. I only need two bras so there's no need to try on all four. Why don't I wear this one out? You can just cut off the tag, right? So I don't have to change? Just cut off the tag, right?"

The salesgal cut off the tag, I put my shirt back on and the three of us walked to the register.

I kid you not...people were waiting around in the department to get a gander at the gnarly hag with small child in tow.

To be fair, if I heard that sort of thing coming from a dressing room, I'd wait around, too.

I Am A Gross Mom - Part One

I don't enjoy shopping for clothes but my office relocated and the new work environment is very different. How different, you may ask? Before July 1st, my office was located in a warehouse behind the Expo Center...jeans, sweats, sneakers, no makeup...it was heaven! On July 1st, my office moved into an escrow branch. Escrow means customers are involved and even though my operation doesn't require customer contact, we are still visible so...skirts, slacks, nice tops, dresses, pantyhose, clip-clop shoes, makeup. Since my wardrobe was quite limited, a shopping trip was necessary so Olivia and I headed to...the mall. (I'm not a fan of the mall...probably has something to do with the fact a trip to the mall involves shopping for clothes.)

I have a have a specific plan when going to the mall. Get in, buy clothes, get out - all without using a public restroom. To achieve this goal, I use the following strategy:

• Park the car by Penney's because you can find a spot fairly close to the entrance.
• Walk as fast as possible through the mall until you come to Macy's.
• Pretend to not hear the guy at the hand lotion/nail care kiosk who trys to stop you for a look at your fingernails and then buff them with some $30 sponge-type thing that is supposed to make them look polished without the polish.
• If the lotion/nail guy is of the aggressive variety and chases you down (this is the case more often than not), act as if you can't understand English. Try to sound French or Italian..."oh-uh...my Eengleesh itsa not so-uh...scusi scusi..." Make a lot of big, sweeping gestures to convey just how sorry you are that you can't understand a word he is saying. Do not, under any circumstance, stop walking or slow down. If it means you have to crash into and take out the hermit crab booth, so be it.
• Walk through Macy's and take a quick look at the racks of clothes. If something catches your eye, find your size, hold it up to you while standing in front of a mirrored support post and turn from side to side so you can see how it looks from different angles. Decide on the spot if it will fit/look good when you are actually wearing it to avoid stripping down in the dressing room. (The locks on those doors are usually broken and a high percentage of shoppers don't check for shoes before entering.) If executed properly, you should be able to purchase 3-4 items and be on your way out of Macy's within 8 minutes.
• Walk as fast as you can through the mall towards Nordstrom. When you get to Ann Taylor, go inside and shop Macy-Style. Repeat when you come to The Gap.
• Exit The Gap and walk straight across the mall to Nordstrom. Do not stop for a drink at the espresso cart because that's nothing more than playing Restroom Roulette. (Call me a wuss, but that's a chance I'm not willing to take...can't "hold it until it's safe" like I could back in the day.)
• Once inside Nordstrom, you can slow down and relax. Nobody will bother you here so use this chance renew your energy for the treacherous walk back to the car. Nordstrom is kind of like baseball. If you are touching Nordy's you are safe, but the minute you step away from Nordy's the 2nd baseman (person doing consumer research and wants you to fill out a questionairre) might tag you and then you're OUT!
• Peruse the clothing at Nordstrom and try them on if need be. All of the locks will work here and a salesperson usually has to let you in with a key. Nobody will bust in on you when you're trying to stuff that "extra skin" that sits just above your waist into a pair of slacks.
• When finished at Norstrom, re-enter the mall at the 2nd floor level to avoid walking past the lotion/nail guy again.
• Walk towards Penney's and do not stop. There are no shops for you on the 2nd floor so don't even look in their windows as you pass by...all it will do is slow you down. The 2nd floor is the teenager floor and you can NOT pull off that look...trust me!
• As you approach Penney's, cross to the south side of the mall walkway and detour through Barnes & Noble. Chances are likely that you need something from B&N anyway and since they are located next to Penney's, you can leave through their exit.
• If you are still thirsty, it is safe to buy something at the B&N Starbucks...unless you plan to make a stop at Target on the way home. Target restrooms are strictly verboten...du lieber Gott!!

As Olivia and I parked the car and began our walk towards Penney's, I explained the above plan to her and stressed the most crucial things...don't drink anything, don't drink anything and don't stop to wait for the man who is chasing Mommy with a sponge because I will not come back if he catches you!

...to be continued (we haven't gotten to the "gross mom" part yet - it will all make sense at the end) ...

Transformers, Excessive Heat and Chachi

This morning at 6:15, Dave Salesky warned of scorching heat for the next two days as I finished my cereal and asked my daughter to brush her teeth. I found the weather report to be ironic since just two days prior, I had turned on the A/C in the car and boiling air blasted into my face instead of a cool breeze. At 6:30, I cleaned up the dishes, turned off the telly and made another request for all small people in the house to practice oral hygiene immediately or I was going to count to three. Apparently, the idea of me counting out-loud is terrifying because that child and her pearly whites were ready to go at 6:32 and hi-ho hi-ho, it's off to day camp/drop the car off at the dealership because I'm not trying to have sweaty pits/work we go.

At work, my friend (Mark from Seattle) googled that he had seen Transformers and it was BADASS and that I might be interested to hear that Josh Duhamel was in the movie. I replied something along the lines of "Is that the guy who is on the show 'Vegas' with James Caan? Eh..." to which Mark responded, "Well, it also has giant fighting robots that change into cars, trucks and planes...THAT'S why it's so good!" I asked if Megatron transformed into a gun or if they changed him into something else. Mark said that Megatron turned into a jet but Optimus Prime was still a semi-truck. I then deemed the movie lame-o and stated I wouldn't watch it because Megatron is the leader of the Decepticons and a major character and when the Transformers first came onto the scene in the 80's, he was a revolver so it's wrong for the movie-making-people to switch him into a jet.

(Now, in the real world, I don't care a flying fig what Megatron transforms into. He could change from evil robot leader into a too-ripe banana and I wouldn't bat an eye. If Mr. Movie Maker wants to put an existing story/idea onto the big screen, the core characters need to remain intact or everything falls apart...that's my point. Don't believe me? Take a moment to think of Indiana Jones running from the giant rolling boulder in "Raiders of the Lost Ark"...intense, right? Let's say Joel Schumacher filmed a remake of "Raiders" and he replaced the boulder with the Kool-Aid Guy (it could happen...Jim Carrey as The Riddler was one of the least scary villains ever). Even though Indiana would certainly be crushed to death by either, the Kool-Aid Guy just doesn't have the same feel...entirely different movie. You could get your admission back from the theater over something like that.)

Anyway, Mark then said that I probably wanted to marry Optimus Prime when I was kid. Of course, I did NOT want to marry OP but I did have a crush on Alex P. Keaton. Not so much Michael J. Fox...just APK...and I never really understood what Joanie possibly saw in Chachi. Or Scott Baio.

Mark informed me that Baio has a reputation for hooking up with hot or semi-hot actresses (especially during "Happy Days" & "Joanie Loves Chachi"). I asked him if Marion Ross had sniffed around Baio's cage and Mark said that he didn't think so. That was a relief because remember how creepy it was when we found out that Mrs. Brady dated Greg Brady in real life? Same sort of thing, except Mrs. Cunningham wasn't related to Chachi.

Here's where it starts to get weird.

After work, I collected my daughter and drove home in a loaner car because my car was still at the dealership. We had dinner and turned on the news which reported a high temp of 102 degrees...nasty. Normally after the news, I watch a movie but my mailbox didn't have any Netflix so I sat at the table and worked on my computer. I'm not sure why I didn't turn off the TV but "Extra" or "Access Hollywood" or "Whatever" apparently comes on after the news and was droning in the background. I wasn't paying attention to the blonde chatty chat chat until I heard, "...and when we come back from the break, Scott Baio turns 45 and talks about his happy days with the ladies before Joanie loved Chachi."

!!!!!!

It's not like Scott Baio is currently on a show or in a movie or at all relevent so the mere fact that he was mentioned in my google with Mark and mentioned on TV the very same day is a bit odd. THEN...add in how Mark said that SB caught all of the tail back in the day, which is exactly what the blonde lady promised to report on next, and we are suddenly having a Twilight Zone moment.

Is this some sort of sign? If so, what kind of sign might that be? Because it worries me...A LOT! The last thing I want (well, maybe not the absolute 'last' thing but definitely waaaay down at the bottom of the Things I Want list) is to find out that Mark and I are destined to become the leaders of some sicko SB/Chachi worshipping cult so we end up quitting our jobs to travel the country in a Winnebago, spreading the word that Charles is in charge of our days and our nights.

I do believe the government would step in and take my daughter to live with her new mommy in Scottsdale, AZ. She'd probably get a pony, too.

OOOOOH...back from commercial. Scotty Boy got with Heather Locklear, Pam Anderson, Brooke Shields (was she drugged?), Erika Eleniak, Nicollette Sheridan...other gals but I didn't catch the names because I was trying process Brooke Shields. What was she thinking? Were her bushy eyebrows obstructing her view and she thought SB was actually JFK, Jr.? Poor gal...imagine her shock and horror once she busted out the tweezers to find Scott peering back at her instead of John John.

Psuedo-Bloggers

Don't you just hate people who claim to have a blog but when you want to read their blog, they haven't posted anything for over a month? Talk about annoying. I mean, really, don't call yourself a Blogger unless you actually post on a semi-regular basis. That's a basic blogging requirement...ask your neighbor, he'll tell you the exact same thing and then complain about your grass not being as green as he'd like it to be and what are you going to do about it?!?

As if the bizarro orange walkway leading from his front porch to my driveway isn't an eyesore.

Weeds, moss and, wait a minute...is that a concrete block holding up one side of the arbor? Classy. This guy is an expert in curb-appeal.