So, as I sit here with my sweet Evelyn watching Elmo in Grouchland (part of our morning routine) for probably the 5th time since we bought it about two weeks ago, I am reminded of two things.
First story:
Evie and I were at Shopper's Food Warehouse around lunch time.
Side Note: It's the worst possible time to go to the grocery store in the city. Everyone else had the same idea we had...grabbing something for lunch real quick. Except "real quick" quickly turned into a "quick eternity". It always seems like when you are the only one in need of a rush, everyone else is taking their sweet time (ie. sauntering down the aisles, purchasing every item in the store, etc.). And, just when you think you are the only one who notices how slowly the cashier is moving, someone else in the cue pipes up with some snide comment that makes you snicker because you were thinking the same thing. But, I digress.
We were in the store. Imagine I am carrying her, mostly to save time as I only needed to buy one or two things. But of course my little friend can't go anwhere without an entourage of stuffed animals, babies, toys, sippy cups, and snacks. In this particular incident, she just had a sippy cup of apple juice (her favorite) because we seriously were going to be in and out. We turn down the aisle I need, and I am secretly thinking how heavy this blasted child has gotten when this old man goes:
"Ah, that's the life."
Yes, he's not the first to comment on how good children have it. I get many comments on how cute she is and how she has it made in the shade. Honestly, I agree on both fronts but again, I digress.
"Yes." I say back.
He then goes on to ask her if she likes her juice, if "mommy" realizes what an angel she has.
Another side note: Often times people assume she is my child. Sometimes I choose to not explain I am just the nanny. One time, this guy swore up and down that she and I looked exactly alike. When I kindly told him there was no relation, he got very indiginant and mumbled something under his breath about how I didn't know what I was talking about (seriously? seriously.).
Back to my story. The old man then goes on to ask, "So, how are you today?"
Assuming he was now directing that question at me, I told him I was,
"Great. thanks for asking".
Ok friends, I kid you not when I say this is the response I got back,
"I wasn't talking to you."
Oooooh well excuse me.
Sheesh.
Second Story...
Then while we were in the store for what turned out to be 30 minutes or more, I heard the song from Dirty Dancing on the radio. The one at the end of the movie "I've Had the Time of My Life". And, I realized how much I abhore that song.
Ok, stop gasping! Geez. I'm sorry people. I just don't get that movie. Never have. It's a cult classic, much like Grease. I am just so over Grease. And, so over Dirty Dancing. People automatically assume that if you are a child of the 80's, that you love this movie. Now, granted in it's day I really did enjoy it. Watched it a gagillion and a half times; however, ugh now I hate just how anything that triggers someone to remember that movie there is so much commotion about it.
Really?
Then there are the sleepover tragedies. You know the ones. All the girls are together hanging out (no, we are NOT pillow fighting gentlemen) and deciding upon what movie to watch and someone ALWAYS suggests it. There are a few breathless gasping noises and it's all over, a done deal.
We are now forced to watch this movie for the 100th time where all the girls in the room not only quote the whole ghastly mess, but can even (EVEN) do the dance at the end. Oh, it's like watching a train wreck.
Ok, that was a hard confession to make. Don't judge me ok?
First story:
Evie and I were at Shopper's Food Warehouse around lunch time.
Side Note: It's the worst possible time to go to the grocery store in the city. Everyone else had the same idea we had...grabbing something for lunch real quick. Except "real quick" quickly turned into a "quick eternity". It always seems like when you are the only one in need of a rush, everyone else is taking their sweet time (ie. sauntering down the aisles, purchasing every item in the store, etc.). And, just when you think you are the only one who notices how slowly the cashier is moving, someone else in the cue pipes up with some snide comment that makes you snicker because you were thinking the same thing. But, I digress.
We were in the store. Imagine I am carrying her, mostly to save time as I only needed to buy one or two things. But of course my little friend can't go anwhere without an entourage of stuffed animals, babies, toys, sippy cups, and snacks. In this particular incident, she just had a sippy cup of apple juice (her favorite) because we seriously were going to be in and out. We turn down the aisle I need, and I am secretly thinking how heavy this blasted child has gotten when this old man goes:
"Ah, that's the life."
Yes, he's not the first to comment on how good children have it. I get many comments on how cute she is and how she has it made in the shade. Honestly, I agree on both fronts but again, I digress.
"Yes." I say back.
He then goes on to ask her if she likes her juice, if "mommy" realizes what an angel she has.
Another side note: Often times people assume she is my child. Sometimes I choose to not explain I am just the nanny. One time, this guy swore up and down that she and I looked exactly alike. When I kindly told him there was no relation, he got very indiginant and mumbled something under his breath about how I didn't know what I was talking about (seriously? seriously.).
Back to my story. The old man then goes on to ask, "So, how are you today?"
Assuming he was now directing that question at me, I told him I was,
"Great. thanks for asking".
Ok friends, I kid you not when I say this is the response I got back,
"I wasn't talking to you."
Oooooh well excuse me.
Sheesh.
Second Story...
Then while we were in the store for what turned out to be 30 minutes or more, I heard the song from Dirty Dancing on the radio. The one at the end of the movie "I've Had the Time of My Life". And, I realized how much I abhore that song.
Ok, stop gasping! Geez. I'm sorry people. I just don't get that movie. Never have. It's a cult classic, much like Grease. I am just so over Grease. And, so over Dirty Dancing. People automatically assume that if you are a child of the 80's, that you love this movie. Now, granted in it's day I really did enjoy it. Watched it a gagillion and a half times; however, ugh now I hate just how anything that triggers someone to remember that movie there is so much commotion about it.
Really?
Then there are the sleepover tragedies. You know the ones. All the girls are together hanging out (no, we are NOT pillow fighting gentlemen) and deciding upon what movie to watch and someone ALWAYS suggests it. There are a few breathless gasping noises and it's all over, a done deal.
We are now forced to watch this movie for the 100th time where all the girls in the room not only quote the whole ghastly mess, but can even (EVEN) do the dance at the end. Oh, it's like watching a train wreck.
Ok, that was a hard confession to make. Don't judge me ok?
No comments:
Post a Comment