The Worst I’ve Ever Seen

October 30, 2002 | 31 Comments

About 4:00 or so last evening I decided to make a run to the grocery store to pick up a few things. I found everything I went there for, but I also returned home with something unexpected.

I am now carrying around the mental image of the absolute worst temper tantrum I have ever seen pitched in public since 1967 (more on that ‘67 incident in an upcoming entry.) This scene was so profoundly horrifying that it was the last thing I thought of before I went to sleep and the first thing that came into my mind when I woke up.

The store where I shop is located in the center of Soccermomville, Iowa. Which is right next to Daddysadoctorburg, of course. You can go there anytime of day and see an overly-liberal parent trying to reign in their spoiled rotten uber-brat of a child. It?s not uncommon to hear things like:

?Hillary, I?ve asked you nicely 100 times now ? please don?t open that package of cookies. Mommy is *starting* to get upset!?

?Tommy ? listen to me. Get down from that display case. Do you prefer the soup with the little stars, the letters, or the tiny dinosaurs? No? we’re not going to buy them all and mix them??

?Michael, honey ? sit down! You know better than to stand up in the cart. Sit! Sit! Michael, if you throw those bananas again, I?ll spank??

It?s a constant thing, I tell you. The kids are in charge of the parents. Which is why the geniuses at my store have come up with a solution to keep children entertained and somewhat caged while their powerless parents wander aimlessly through the aisles trying to hold it together long enough to buy something for dinner.

They made a shopping cart with a section on the front end that looks like a little car ? steering wheel and all. Just shove your ~~whiny brat~~ precious child in there and they will be happy for at least ? hour, so shop fast. Apparently, it doesn?t matter that this cart is practically the size of an actual Volkswagon rolling down the aisles, that it runs over everyone’s toes, and barrels into old ladies because Supermom can?t drive it any better than her minivan.

Apparently, all of that is worth is if the ~~obnoxious crumb cruncher~~ precious child is amused and under control for a few moments.

Which bring us to last night?s episode. Professional Dad was wheeling his cart of pre-packaged, microwavable shit haphazardly through the grocery store, and Little Johnny Snotmonster was in the ?car? attached to the front end. Dad found everything on his list and decided it was time to check out. This was not a good choice, according to Johnny. How dare father come to this decision without consulting him first!

I guess the inventors of the rolling, grocery Brat Mobile never stopped to think that most kids under the age of five will raise holy hell if something they enjoy is taken away from them.

I am not exaggerating when I say this: I saw this adorable blonde, chubby-cheeked preschool boy turn into a snarling, kicking, spitting demon in 3.5 seconds flat as WonderDad attempted to pry his writhing body from that ?car?. The kid let out this blood curdling scream that was so awful, the old lady next to me in the checkout line started to shake and dropped a jar of pickles.

?AAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaarooooooohhhhhaaaaawaaaaaaaaahhh!?

?Let go of the cart; we have to buy the groceries now and get home. Mommy is waiting for us.?

?Aaaaaaaaaaiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!?

Boy inflicts violent kicking, slapping and hairpulling on Daddy. Daddy just takes it.

?Would someone please take this cart away as soon as I get him out of it? That might work,? asks Daddy.

Horrified clerks and customers watch and listen, mouths gaping.

The store manager directs the checkout boys to rush to the father?s aide. They will do anything to shut up that kid up and get them out of the store as soon as possible. They whisk the ?car? away as soon as Daddy pries Junior’s grubby little fingers off the steering wheel and extricates him from it.

?Aaaaarrrrrrrrrrggggggarooooooooo!!! I HATE YOU DADDY! I HATE YOU!?

Picture snot bubbles bursting furiously from the kid?s nose as he sobs, wails and goes all Jackie Chan on Daddy.

?I?m sure you do, son. That?s ok. It?s alright to be angry.?

The boy, who has now been set down on the floor because of the uncontrollable thrashing, now begins to bang his head against the checkout counter with a deafening *kaboom*kaboom*kaboom*. The horrendous screaming gets even worse than ever. Daddy?s legs are now being beaten to a pulp as the groceries are scanned and he shakily tries to write out the check.

Onlookers gather around and stare, transfixed, wondering what will happen next.

In all of my life, I never would have predicted what DID happen next.

?I HATE YOU DADDYYyyyyyy *groaaaaannn*grunnnnnnnnt?**GRRRRRuuuuunnnn**…..? came out of the monster?s beet-red face.

You guessed it. The little tyrant crapped his pants!! A three-year-old who can shit on command! Who knew?? Never in a million years would I have thought of using that tactic when I was a kid.

?Son, you didn?t? please tell Daddy that you didn?t do that.?

?I diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid!!!!!! I HATEYOOOOOOOOOOOOUuUuUuuuuuu!!!?

A collective ?Eewww!? goes up from the crowd, and everyone backs up. Some of us busted out laughing. Ok, I busted out laughing. I couldn’t help it — I was in some sort of bewildered shock.

Daddy picks up the kid, who is still bellowing and now has runny, wet brown spots seeping through the legs of his corduroys, and wrestles him a bit to keep from getting slapped in the face again.

?I think I?ll need drive-up for this tonight??

No shit, Daddy Sherlock. Drive-up, a tranquilizer gun, and an exorcist.

It seemed to take an eternity for the man and the stinky boy to make it to the door. Everyone was motionless until the automatic door swung shut behind them. We could still hear the kid through the storefront window, but at least we didn?t fear for our lives any more. Slowly, the tension broke and people started chuckling about what they had just witnessed.

Some guy in the next line over laughingly said:

?That reminds me. I have to buy some condoms??

No kidding! I bet half the guys in the store did after seeing that!

Posted by Christine | Filed Under Uncategorized

Surf’s Up!

October 29, 2002 | 2 Comments

Just roaming around the web at the moment. I’ve found a few funny and/or disgusting and/or interesting sites to share with you. Enjoy!
~Send your favorite Halloweener a spooky message here.

~Morph a weirdo right before your very eyes here.

~Have a fear of clowns? Awww, poor baby. Go here. Bwwwahahaha!

~See people hump stuff here. (I’m not kidding you!)

~It’s the first step in making perfect, homemade nose meringue. Buy it here!

and finally…

christine is always
christine is here to stay
christine is a femme fatale with a throaty roar
christine is an underrated classic
christine is a myth buster
christine got her Googlism on here.

Posted by Christine | Filed Under Uncategorized

Yooo Hooo… It’s Monday!

October 28, 2002 | Leave a Comment

It’s time for Participation Positives - the fun little meme where you list all of the GOOD things happening on your Monday morning.
Here’s my list:

My trip to the dentist was not awful! He’s decided we could try a simple white filling in the tooth first instead of re-doing the partial porcelain crown. No drilling, no shots, no temporary. I’m a happy, smiley girl!
The chiropractor was pretty gentle with me, too.
My new cross-stitch designing software, PCStitch, arrived today. I bought it brand-new from an eBay seller for nearly 1/2 the retail price!
I slept for 8 straight hours last night, which is almost unheard of regarding my sleep patterns.
The consolidation loan covering all of my student loans is now all set up. The payments are managable and the interest rate is low, low, LOW. *breathing a huge sigh of relief*
I’m burning a French Vanilla candle and it smells wonderful.
For the first time in quite a while, I feel light on my feet.
I am loved and I have many good people in my life that I can share my love with.

I hope your Monday is going well, too. If it’s been a bit of a drag, just try focusing on the positive things for awhile — it really does help!

Posted by Christine | Filed Under Uncategorized

Whi-i-i-i-i-ne

October 27, 2002 | Leave a Comment

I have to go to the dentist in the morning for some work. He?s going to be replacing a porcelain crown on one of my molars, so that means there will be Novocain shots, drilling, impressions taken, and I?ll have a temporary in for a couple weeks.

There damn well better be some nitrous oxide, too. I have to get some sort of joy out of this.

I?ve been putting it off for months because I am such a chickenshit. I can?t delay it any longer, though. And afterwards, I have an appointment with my chiropractor, whose office is right next door to my dentist. He?s gonna whomp the hell out of me, too, I just know it. They?ll probably meet each other out front on the sidewalk and smack hands like tag-team partners. The sadistic bastards.

I?m telling you, kids? after 40 it?s just patch, patch, patch?

~Sigh~

I’ll write again sometime tomorrow when I can feel my face again and I’ve stopped drooling on the keyboard.

Posted by Christine | Filed Under Uncategorized

New Neighbors and Stuff About The ‘Rents

October 27, 2002 | Leave a Comment

Well, the family that bought Not-Gay-Larry?s house next door is moving in this weekend. We?ve been spying on them from the attic window. Heh. So far they seem to be cool. No loud, junky cars, no barking dogs, no rusty swing set being set up right next to the property line.

We have been told that they have kids, but we haven?t seen or heard them yet. As far as we are concerned, no children can be as awful as those mutant beasts that live on the other side of our house ? The Brats Nextdoor ? so we aren?t too worried about them.

We are cautiously optimistic at this point. I?ll keep you updated on all new developments.

I?ve been doing a lot of thinking about this reluctance I have regarding telling my parents about my new job. I am pretty sure I have figured out what is causing the anxiety. Believe me, I know this is going to sound totally weird and convoluted, but if you know my family and how I was raised, it makes perfect sense.

I think the problem is that deep down inside I am afraid to be in a different socioeconomic class than my parents. Being middle-class and struggling is one of the last few ties I still have with them. They would never say it in so many words — (especially my Dad), but they have a certain degree of contempt for people who are in a higher wage earning bracket than they are. My parents are blue collar, labor-union kind of people and they are suspicious of anyone who isn?t. Furthermore, they regard academia as a fortress for privileged smartasses who like to talk more than put their backs into their work. Philosophizing isn?t much in their eyes.

When I tell them about this job they will say that they are proud of me and happy for me (they always do), but in the back of my mind I?ll be wondering if they mean it completely. I fear that they will look at me differently and think I am one of the ?other? people now. Or somehow they will assume that I think I am better than they are because of some diplomas on a wall or money in the bank.

Of course, the position I accepted is only adjunct at this time. I?m certainly not going to be raking in gobs of money. But it?s a start, and I am confident that in a few years I?ll probably be working full-time somewhere and things will be pretty comfortable financially. I?ll be able to afford things and go places that my parents could never dream of.

Going beyond some of the previous generation?s accomplishments is supposed to be a good thing, or so I have always thought. If I had children, I would want that for them.

This just feels fucking creepy, though. Like I?ve done something wrong. Like I’m a traitor.

It feels like a big bundle of doom.

Posted by Christine | Filed Under Uncategorized