Mike’s not the sort to blow his top over, well, anything. He’s a laid back kinda guy. Never jealous, never overprotective, never any of that stuff – not that i give him reason to be. But the other night he really, really got outraged on my behalf. Which was funny, because I thought it was no big deal, and of the two of us? I’m usually the one to overreact. (ok. ALWAYS. It’s always me. Except this one time.)
I went to Target with just Seth-8mth. I have a weird Love/Hate relationship with Target. I love their greeting cards and stationery and paper goods. Loooove their cheapo t shirts in all colors. Hate the strict return policy (hello? I can’t return this even though it still has the tags that SAY ‘target’? Ya kiddin me?).
Anyway, I walk in carrying Seth-8mth, a blanket for him, and my purse. I go in the first automatic doors, pass the entrance to the Returns/Exchanges area (where I never want to go again), and through the second set of automatic sliding doors. BEEEEP!
The alarm goes off. I turn to look, and there’s a lady behind me, heading into the Returns area with a bag. I figure it’s her fault, and go start to get a basket. A man approaches from behind and says, "You’re probably wearing clothing from the Gap or Old Navy."
Huh? Could we get security over here, because I don’t wanna take this survey.
"Um, no." I say, looking down at what I’m wearing.
Anonymous Man says, "Well, the security system beeped when you came in and that can be the reason."
This makes no sense.
"Uh huh." I start to get a basket. I’m wanting one with the built in baby carrier so I can place Seth-8mth and his blanket in there and get AWAY.
Anonymous Man – because he has no name tag, no uniform, and has not bothered to introduce himself – says, "Well, it must be something in your purse. Why don’t you come with me over here and walk through this sensor again."
Stunned, I oblige. BEEEEP!
He says something I don’t recall, and takes my purse and waves it in front of the sensor. No beep. I go through it again, holding Seth-8mth and his blanket – but not my purse because i’ve wisely handed it over to a stranger – and it beeps.
We discuss the contents of my pockets. Short conversation, since I think putting stuff in my pockets might make me look fat and so I don’t do it. (No, I don’t tell HIM that, I’m telling YOU that) Anonymous Man grudgingly hands back my purse. I ask him, "What do we do now?"
"Well, there’s not much I can do now." He sounds disappointed.
I’m thrilled a strip search is not in order.
He then questions me about my clothes again.
"Nope, they’re all quite old, actually," I say, realizing this for the first time today. He asks about Seth-8mths clothes.
"These are all hand-me-downs from his brother."
"Old." Ha. That was Kim-12yr’s as a baby, and certainly didn’t come from Old Navy or Gap.
"Well, I guess you can go, but be aware that it will beep when you leave here." (It didn’t)
"Uh huh. So what does Old Navy or Gap have to do with this?"
"They leave the sensors in their stuff and don’t deactivate them, and they’re similar to ours."
Does that make even a BIT of sense? Wouldn’t alarms would go off at gap and Old Navy if that were the case? Am I missing something?
I finally got away from him, tried to look as innocent as possible as i shopped. It was hard, because there were employees around every corner, watching me. I was glad that maybe this would be my last time there, since we’re getting another Target closer to our house.
Actually, I did miss quite a few things, since I’m not a real ‘think on your feet’ kinda gal.
1. I didn’t realize this guy could be anyone.
2. I went along with all of this. It didn’t embarrass me, although it easily could have.
3. Why didn’t i say, "HELLO? ALL I DID WAS WALK IN YOUR STORE, READY TO SPEND MONEY?" I could understand that treatment if i were exiting the store, but i WAS NOT, and he knew it.
Mike was furious. I told him about this, in a nonchalant way since it was inconvenient and all, but not offensive. To me, that is. Mike was quite offended. "You were harrassed!"
"Was not! WHoever he was really didn’t do his job well, assuming he had a job there, but he didn’t harrass me."
Back and forth. Back and forth. Finally MIke asked, "Do you want to take it further?"
Take it FURTHER? My laid back husband said WHAT? Does that mean he’s calling his attorney, or the mafia, or what the HECK was THAT? I still don’t know. But I asked, and then he started off again, so I tried to diffuse his anger and I assured him I didn’t want to take it FURTHER, and acted like I knew what that meant.
Then an hour later, all of y’all got dragged into this lovely discussion. Aren’t you flattered? "You should write about it and see what THEY think about this."
So, in place of our attorney (who could probably do some serious damage), or the mafia (pretty sure they could to), I turn to y’all.
What was up with THAT?
Had anything similar happen at Target?
Understand the Gap/Old Navy defense?
Do you know if the security there is ‘unmarked?’ (Mike swears that’s illegal, as was his taking my purse, but let’s not get him started again.)
I’ll be interested in your responses. (As will Mike, I’m sure.)
My mom and I sold stuff on eBay. She does this sort of thing, I just buy. (and buy WELL, I might add, as does she. and HolySister.)
Mom did the descriptions and photos and I was supposed to check over those listings before she posted them. I did not. I mean, my MOM wrote them, and so what if that was months ago in the middle of the night and we were both emotional and sleep deprived…? Well, to be fair, I don’t think she was emotional, but I was and fact-checking just really didn’t rate as a priority. Mom’s so reliable, anyway, and it would be such a total pain to go to so much trouble…
See where I’m going? uh huh. I screwed up three different auctions, and am trying to rectify it. I’m trying HARD to rectify it because that is potentially THREE WHOLE NEGATIVE FEEDBACKS. And if you don’t get the gravity of that, well, just trust me. That’s BAAAAD. Mike doesn’t understand this at all, and said, "Honey, this will not change your life in any significant way."
Hello? Was that MikeSpeak for "Stop overreacting?" Because I don’t like to be told that. Ever.
This clearly demonstrated that he had NO concept of the sacred nature of the eBay feedback system. You guard your positive feedback score with everything you have so that people will recognize you as a good seller. And? A good SHOPPER. Which I am.
So I exhaled slowly and calmly said, "You do not understand. Three negative feedbacks… that is… the scarlet letter upon my very eBay soul…" I leaned in a little so he’d see the seriousness in my eyes.
He snorted. The nerve!
The next day things did not seem so bleak at all, and I explained the entire episode to HolySister. Complete with the ‘scarlet letter’ metaphor. (Which should be appreciated because I just don’t do metaphors often or well, and this one rocked. ROCKED.)
And she didn’t miss a beat, and said, "EXACTLY. That is EXACTLY what it’s like." And then went on to talk about how it hadn’t happened yet, and what to do next.
Final note to my Mom: You’ve turned me into a seller. Fun!
to HolySister: I relished telling Mike exactly how you reacted. (Now he thinks we’re both weird.)
Final Note to Y’all:
Nuh UH am I so NOT giving out my eBay user id! Are you kidding me? I’d just vomit if I thought I’d accidentally misrepresented an item to momrn2 or to shalee or whoever. Nuh UH, so not going there. You might think I don’t like anonymity, given all of this bloggy stuff, but I have my limits. I think.
Today we went to one of those places where you pick out a piece of pottery and then paint it with glaze, leave it and then they fire it for you. How FUN. Loved it.
I’ve only seen those places on A Baby Story, where the little families go and look all yuppie-ish and calm and patient as the toddlers handle breakable items on camera. I’d never go to a place like that if I were being taped for a television show, but otherwise, it was cool. And no one recorded how many times I said, "BE CAREFUL!!"
My favorite part was when Ethan-6yr looked up from painting his dinosaur figurine and proudly announced, "Mine has a red mouth!" We all look and nod and appreciate the red mouth. Then he adds, "It just ate a BLOODY meal!"
Well, yes. We ARE classy and we like our art to be realistic and all.
And I’m right here. Yea! Mike’s been out of town for a week, but right now I have almost a full hour ALL TO MYSELF. Yes, I’ve already had the thrill of the much mommy coveted Solo Pee, and now I’m off to ebay, but first a quick request:
Do any of you have computer keyboards (particularly sony vaio laptop users out there) that have these keys on the lower left corner:
Windows flag key thing
If so, and these keys are all to the left of the space bar, could you please leave a comment telling me in which order those 4 little jewels should sit? Thank you. My darling Seth-8mth has an amazing ability to snap off handfuls of keys with just one or two quick little grabs. And the letters’ placement are easy to figure out, but this last bunch, well, not so much.
I went. Oh, yes I did.
I expected them to be dressed in their cute little Chic Mommy Attire, complete with accessories, just as before. I was excited, really, thinking that the brave mommies who wear necklaces WHILE holding toddlers might be there ready to be nice to me again.
What to wear? I couldn’t show up with Perfect Hair. They wouldn’t recognize me. I couldn’t look too… ‘put together’ after how ratty I looked last week. Hmm. I went for a look I’ll call Contrived Careless. The ponytail was there, but stylish, not sloppy this time. The shoes were ok, but I left all my cute ones at home that day. And i put on just enough lip gloss so that if anyone looked and thought about it, they’d conclude it had almost worn off. As opposed to being barely put on to LOOK as if it had carelessly worn off. (Yes male readers, there is a big difference, just take my word on it, okay?)
But no one looked. I was the only one who showed! The boys and I had a great time at the science museum all by ourselves, and I’m glad we went. The boys created huge contraptions from oversized tinkertoys, and drove around in little plastic fire trucks and swished their hands through a steam like tornado thing. Good fun.
So, no one cared about my lip gloss or my hair, and by the time we left, Contrived Careless was just plain Careless. And that was pretty nice, too.
My husband is a great dad. He’s out of town.
My dad? Great. We’ve had a bumpy relationship, now being better than times in the last few years.
Last night I talked to HolySister, who told me that she’d gotten a call from our Long Lost Cousin. Who was with our dad at the time. Our Long Lost Cousin decides to tell HolySister about something I wrote about our dad that wasn’t flattering. HolySister is wondering when this could be… since, after all, she’s Long Lost. And then she gets it that Long Lost Cousin is bringing up something I wrote in a ‘note’ (I HAVE NO MEMORY OF THIS) way back in the day. Like, 11 WHOLE years ago. She mentioned she wasn’t happy with me about that. I recall, upon hearing this, that perhaps this is why she’s LONG LOST.
So, my dad – who i’ve already said is a nice guy but our relationship isn’t really rock solid – is sitting there listening to this conversation between HolySister and Long Lost Cousin. Might I point out a few things? (I think it’ll help me.)
1. I was nineteen.
2. That makes me a teenAGER, for pete’s sake.
3. I’ve become a mother to four WHOLE PEOPLE since I wrote whatever it is she says i wrote.
4. I’ve done and said and written infinitely more stupid stuff than this one thing I don’t recall. I’m positive of that.
5. It was the night before Father’s Day, last night, when this happened.
6. I can’t even apologize! Who knows what I said (ok, well, Long Lost Cousin knows, but I’m SO NOT ASKING), or if I’d even stand by it today?
7. My mom nicely calmed me down last night at midnight over the phone.
8. Then I read all the lovely Father’s Day posts at other blogs and LOST IT again and went all freaky-nutty again just now.
9. I’d call for some more Mom Style Peace, but it’s like, the middle of the night in Australia where she is and so I won’t.
10. Then I realize that there are people who do not have fathers at all.
11. And I feel like a big Shmoe for that not putting some perspective on this.
12. But it doesn’t.
13. And I"m even Shmoe-i-er for that.
I scanned the comments here and realized that at least 7 of you were wondering about that mention of reading 282 blogs. Actually, i thought nothing of it, until tonight I was talking with my mother. And would you like to know what she said…?
"So, do you really read all those blogs, or is that just a number you threw out there?"
That was my OWN MOTHER questioning that claim? I realized then and there a follow up post was indeed necessary.
So…. blogging secrets revealed:
I use bloglines. I’m considering making it public, as a blogroll of sorts, but I shudder at the hours of repetitive clicking that would involve.
There are indeed 282 blogs in there. It’s about 90% Mommy Blogs, 10% Other.
I have a mental ‘shortlist’ of about 15 blogs that i check very often and would not ever miss a post on, ever. Most are blogs that I found immediately upon my arrival in BlogLand. I’ve admired them publicly before, but a few that come to mind:
(In my mind, Shannon and Heth are as inseparable as the washer and dryer in my laundry room. Shannon’s the dryer. Duh. Heth is the washing machine.)
Yellow Mama Real Life Friend!
Used to be here: Corina. I left comment after comment on her abandoned blog, asking if she was okay. Actually, I joked about checking the obituaries since she’s been gone for months without explanation. Then I remembered she’s a POLICE OFFICER, and that was a DUMB JOKE, and then I really did google the Springfield obituaries, but she wasn’t there, and she’s ok. I found her email address. She’s working crazy hours.
And yes, I did leave a few off that list. A ton of others I email regularly back and forth with great consistency and little maturity. You know who you are.
All blogs I visit out of sheer joy. I do not keep any kind of mental tabs on who visits mine or comments or who doesn’t. I don’t care, and if I did I’d drive myself nuts.
Repeating: I don’t visit any blog out of a sense of obligation, because this is what i do for fun.
I visit all the blogs on my bloglines about once a week, week and a half. I sometimes read all the posts I’ve missed, but usually not. A lot of times I read a few posts, but comment once.
Do y’all really care? Is this getting lame? Because I could tell you in more detail about how horrifying it is to think you’ve made an insensitive joke about a police officer blogger friend being dead and then not knowing if it were true… gah. Can’t believe I did that.
I don’t blog when I’m on child duty. In fact, my kids have no idea I blog. I don’t do it when they’re awake. I have a blog session in the afternoon during naptime (Ethan-6yr does Quiet Time), and then not again until after they’re all asleep. (Seth-8mth knows what I do, but so far he’s kept it quiet.) If I allowed it, this blog stuff would totally take over my Mom/Kids time, and I don’t want to go there. They deserve so much more from me.
Ha! Did y’all buy that load? Seriously, it’s never once been tempting to try to blog while diapering kids or breaking up fights or just being a mom. I have no delusions about being capable of doing both at the same time without losing my mind, or I surely would.
There you have it. My blogging secrets revealed.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in my room since I have a lot of reading to do, Mother.
My Real Life Friend, "E", gave birth to darling little girl this morning! Congratulations, Real Life Friends!
Real Life Friend, Yellow Mama, is going to welcome home her daughter soon! YEA!
There’s a party going on here for a mom named Dawn, who welcomed home her son. Who’s Dawn? I don’t know, and if you do, let me know. But I’m all excited for her anyway, and you can be, too. Go wish her well!
I have a new reader.
So? What’s the fuss, surely that happens from time to time? To which I would shrug and say, ‘I dunno. Hope so.’
This particular reader has been lurking for awhile now. I should have known when quite suddenly the workings of the fan were no longer a mystery, and it coincided with that post. Hmmm. I’m dizzy with the possible practical applications of this newfound knowledge!
So, hi Mike. I won’t ask you to comment on that last post, ‘kay? Or, well, any post, since that’s not really your style.
Tonight was Date Night. (Nope, I didnt’ even take Seth-7mth)
At two different times tonight Mike and I could have passed for twelve year olds. I held out a shirt at a store for his appraisal. It was yellow and brown with a stripe of turquoise. I said, "Look! It’s like poop and pee, all on the same shirt!" Mike looked at it and said exactly what i was thinking. "With a little toothpaste!" We dissolved into stupid giggles.
Then, over dessert, we were discussing a possible business venture (because hello? could we have just a few more of THOSE, please…?). Mike took a pen and paper from my purse and drew a cul de sac. Yaknow, something like this:
I looked at his drawing, and said, "That looks SO much like a penis."
"Well. Not MINE."
Men. As if that’s what I meant. Oh please.
"Clearly. Clearly not yours." I took the pen and drew a much more, ahem, substantial, cul de sac.
He looked at it and grinned and then came more stupid giggles. He’s so easy.
I attribute our juvenile behavior to recent stress. Just this morning I was sure I was going to cancel date night because we’ve been all stressed and snippy and grumpy with each other. Then look! We go out and draw penises and laugh about the unfortunate color scheme of a shirt. Ah, the healing power of dumb humor.
(I asked if he’d mind if i took a photo of our drawings for my blog. He looked horrified – as if I’d asked to photograph his… cul de sac, or something.)