I’ve been meaning to post a rant about some of the things you can expect people to say to you if you become a stay at home Dad. Some of those things can be thoughtless and personally can send me into a stormin’ norman mood.
So my wife and I decided to get the weekly shopping at prime time on Sunday afternoon this week. It had to be done, we just had to plough through the stress and complete the task to make our week that bit easier.
It all started well, but as normal the hundreds of people that seem to think that the shopping aisles are actually a race circuit designed for some kind of destruction derby were out in full force. It’s hard not to say sorry to these people, even though it’s their fault when they drive into me or get in our way. Our predictable and deliberate movements must be the most chaotic thing these people have ever witnessed, judging by the way they act.
Bearing in mind we are the sum of one man, one woman, a curious 4 year old, and a 15 week old baby in a buggy, we’re not impossible to get past, so just get in gear, stop moaning and do it!
Anyway, this visit to the shop suddenly go more interesting when my daughter declared that she needed a poo. Ut oh – no toilets in this joint! So, whilst we are looking around for staff to ask if we can use their toilet, she’s shouting in front of all the stressed out, angry shoppers shouting “I really need a poo and dancing isn’t helping! I can’t hold it anymore! It’s going to come out!”.
Luckily the staff helped us out and we managed to finish off our shopping visit. Which leads me to my actual rant.
Whilst we were putting the shopping on the conveyor belt at the till my baby daughter started making the kind of noises that she makes when she’s just waking up and wondering what’s going on. You know, it’s not a cry. Its kind of like they are asking the question “Where has everyone gone”. Naturally I started to talk to her to keep her calm and rocked the buggy she was in. I gave her a dummy and stroked her face and she was at full ease having made almost no noise or impact on anyone around us. At least that’s what I thought.
There was a fairly old, retired type of lady behind us in the queue. She was on her own and was wearing that ‘too much make up, drag queen style’ look. I noticed the strong musky smell of her cheap perfume. Rank!
“Oh I sometimes wish I could put gaffer tape over them!” she exclaimed.
In an instant I could feel the mega tsunami of rage fill my veins. Adrenalin flowing ready to defend my precious 15 week old baby.
“They always make too much noise. My grand son was the same” she added.
I tried to calm down as quickly as possible and given the circumstances I had to be short with her. By this point I think she knew she was in trouble given I’ve got an award winning ultra frown.
As the rage pressure amplified, I semi-shouted to her through gritted teeth “NOT THIS ONE!” and held my stare until she looked at the floor and shut up. I imagined gaffer taping her instead but it probably wouldn’t stick due to the amount of make up. I didn’t know what else to say or do but in retrospect I should have told her that “you were probably the same – and you STILL ARE!”
Job done I thought to myself and we managed to get some bargains in the process too 🙂