STOP IT!!!!!!!!

The BBQ Pit
21

Amen, sister! When my daughter was 2, she went around the house completely naked all winter (I insisted on clothes outside the house). I spent the whole winter in long underwear and sweaters, shivering, while she cavorted around in the nude, completely comfortable.

Now she’s 4 and she wears big rubber rainboots wherever she goes, no matter the weather, just because they’re beautiful. This morning it was barely 50f and she wanted to wear them with this little pink sleeveless cotton number. “It’s too cold,” I told her. “But I like being cold, Mama!” We compromised–she wore a dress with sleeves, though still too light, and a heavier jacket. Then, in the car, she complained she was cold. “I thought you liked being cold,” I said. “Not anymore.”

Ah, parenthood.

22

What bugs me, and I could cheerfully shoot people in the head at close range who do this, is when you are sitting behind someone at a stop light, waiting, waiting, then the light turns green, and OH WHAT IS THAT IS THAT YOUR LEFT TURN SIGNAL COMING ON NOW WHEN IT IS TOO LATE FOR ME TO GET OUT FROM BEHIND YOU!???!!!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Thank you.

(Edited for horizontal scroll. Lynn)

[Edited by Lynn Bodoni on 09-26-2001 at 05:32 AM]

23

I hate it when my post looks fine in preview then goes too far over in the thread. Sorry about that.

24

What bothers me? Well, I’m glad you asked.

The terminally underprepared bother me. You know who I mean. The people who wait for 10 minutes in a line in front of a cash register, and then experience profound shock when they get to the front and - yikes! - it’s time to pay for something! Now, after ten minutes of standing around staring into space and contemplating the utter joy of a life lived under the influence of, presumably, mind-numbing experimental pharmaceuticals, they are suddenly confronted with a need for action, and it just blows their minds.

They spend at least a minute deciding that they don’t - no, they do - wait, they don’t need a pack of gum. Then they want to write a check for eight bucks worth of merchandise, and it turns out they have apparently never ever ever written a check before because it takes them three tries. And then they discover, to their shock, that the person at the cash register is going to need to see I.D. to take a check! Who ever heard of such a thing? And, naturally, they don’t have any I.D. even though they live in a town where it is impossible to go anywhere without driving - I’m assuming when they get pulled over they do this same underprepared routine with the cops, who I hope, given that these are LA cops, shoot them - and so they have to tear up the check and troll through their purses and pockets and belly buttons for exactly $8.03 in Canadian pennies and dimes covered in green gunk.

By this time, of course, the line is out the door and around the block. A small child is threatening to pee on herself if she doesn’t get to a potty immediately. A woman who wasn’t even pregnant when she joined the line has gone into labor, but the paramedics can’t attend to her, because they’re trying to resuscitate the elderly guy behind her, whose time on this earth apparently expired while he was waiting for a moron to finish sorting through every item in her 50-pound purse so she could come up with enough extra change to afford a National Enquirer and a package of BBQ pork rinds!

Those’re the people that bother me, and I tell you, if there was any justice in this world they would be rounded up and sent to infiltrate Osama bin Laden’s terrorist network, which would either catch them and - yay! - kill them or else become hopelessly, pathetically, woefully inefficient and completely unable to pull off anything more coordinated than a terrorist cell potluck. (And even then, everyone would bring potato salad with bacon bits.)

25

I HATE it when a small child informs a parent that “I gotta go potty NOW!” and the concerned parent tells the kid to just hold it. Cripes. You take the kid to the potty before you leave the house, telling him/her to at least TRY to go. Often enough, the kid will be able to go. DON’T expect a small child to be able to go long periods of time without reasonable bathroom breaks. When one child has to go, the whole gang has to go visit the bathroom and at least try.

And, incidentally, I’m not really fond of the little rugrats, but this really gets to me. Parents, don’t expect your kids to enjoy marathon shopping expeditions at a young age.

26

Lynn, it’s an absolute given that the same child who has been two the toilet 20 times in the 5 minutes before leaving home, and who you have taken to the toilet again before entering the supermarket, will decide that they absolutely need to go again not while you are filling your trolley and could exit the store and return, but while your order is going through the checkout.

And don’t even ask me about the perils of toilet-free public transport (if you’re lucky, you only have to get off at the wrong stop to deal with the situation - the nightmare comes when you’re between stops and they have to go “right now”).

Ironically, I’m now finding myself the same kind of super toilet-spotter for those friends of mine who are experiencing incontinence in middle age that I was for my children when they were toddlers. Unfortunately, a great many public spaces aren’t designed for people who can’t “hold on” - whatever the age of those people and the reason why they don’t have “normal” bladder control.

27

Thanks for the fix,Lynn. Much obliged.

28

Most, if not all, grocery stores have restrooms. They’re hidden in a discreet corner, usually near the produce section, and you won’t see them if you’re not looking for them, but they’re there.

29

deepbluesea … that was beautiful, dude.