Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Open Letter to the Driver of a Red Dodge Ram

Dear Sir:

I am sooo sorry about our encounter last week. I understand, fully and completely, that I was a fly in the ointment of your day. I mean, come on, how dare I be an actual human being.

I am going to take a moment, for the betterment of your future days, to explain how a woman with two kids under the age of five leaves the grocery.
1. I push the stupid, hard to steer car-cart (which is the only one that will seat two kids) out to my car.
2. I pop the tail end of my minivan and load all the groceries from said stupid cart in the rear, being careful to not knock out the stroller and loading things precariously on top of the pack and play that I have been trying to get out of my car for two weeks.
3. I disgustedly read the sign on the car cart commanding me to push it back to the store and NOT leave it in one of the handy cart corrals I took for granted when I only had the one child.
4. I push the ridiculous thing back to the store.
5. I unstrap both children, hold the one that's not walking, threaten the one that is that if she runs off I will flush the ice cream down the toilet.
6. I walk back to the car at the pace (this is important) determined by my four year old. Since I cannot hold her and she cannot walk as fast as me without running, she sets the pace.
7. I open the driver's door and help the older one climb into my seat and then ask her to climb through to hers.
8. I open the driver's side rear door and place the little one in the car seat and then strap her carefully in. (It's the law.)
9. I walk around to the other side of the car and open the passenger rear door and strap my oldest into her car seat.
10. I walk back around and get in the driver's seat. I take a deep breath and check for the essentials: wallet - check, cell phone - check, keys - check.
11. I buckle myself in.
12. I leave.

Notice that there are twelve steps to this process. This is not a short process. I try to never take both children to the store for this very reason. But sometimes, there's just no getting around it.

While I certainly appreciated your constant honking to remind me that you wanted my space and you're use of profanity within earshot of my children when I didn't move fast enough was absolutely the motivation I needed, none of that actually hurried me up any.

You see, when you see a crazy looking lady dragging kids around, pushing a cart that looks like a reject from the Daytona 5, you should think for a moment about what kind of person she looks like. Because there is a concealed carry law in this state.

The Scary Looking Mama With the Nice, Big Purse


Orlandel said...

Ooohhh, but one look at your peaceful looking face and he knows there's nothing lethal in that purse. Of course, it could knock him out from just the weight of it....

Jessi said...

That's right! Two hardback books in that thing at all times. Plus all the other stuff. And he doesn't know that I'm a pacifist wanna-be. Psychopaths look just like regular people - so says Wednesday Adams.

Jenn-Jenn, the Mother Hen said...

Maybe it's the devil in me, but when people act like that when waiting for my space, I refuse to move. I crank up the A/C, turn on my kid's favorite radio station, and we sit and sing songs together until the a$$hole gets the point and moves on to another space. But then, that's just me.

Suze said...

You is funny :)

Mimi - SleeplessInKL said...

I love this post, Jessi :)

Anonymous said...

Very funny. I'm sorry that happened to you, but I'm glad you have sense enough to know he was the one at fault.