If any of you parents haven't wandered over to Ask Moxie from my blogroll, it's definitely worth a look. This post from a few days ago struck me particularly since this scenerio is practically a daily event for me. I go to a store with one or both girls, and someone will inevitably get in their faces, try to touch them, or make some assinine comment about wanting to take them home. It's always a senior who does this, though occasionally cashiers or store employees will also. And as Moxie aptly put it, it makes you wonder what the Hell is wrong with people.
Yesterday, we walked into town so I could stop at the bank. I didn't realize that my branch closes at 3 PM during the week. Now, it's only about a 5 minute walk, so it's not like I was out of my way, but it was annoying. Lauren grumbled because she was expecting to get a lollipop from the bank. So, we crossed the street to go to Rite Aid to buy a lollipop and to see if they had any interesting art projects to do.
Immediately upon entering the store, an old man starting bellowing "Hi! Hi! Hi!" and inching toward us with his walker. I took Lauren's hand and escaped down an aisle. We had to pass him 3 more times trying to find ourselves a shopping basket, and then to check out with the cashier. Each time, he resumed his hollering.
We grabbed a basket from the back of the store. Lauren began singing "A basket, a basket." An older woman was checking out in the back, and commented to the cashier (loudly) that my kids were cute and she wished she could take them home. About 2 minutes later, she approached us in the aisle.
"I heard you singing!" she said loudly, in Lauren's face. "It's not a green and yellow basket, though. What color is the basket?"
Lauren looked alarmed. "It's blue."
"We're in a hurry." I said to no one in particularly as we walked away from her and into the next aisle, searching for art supplies.
A woman standing behind us in the check out line tried to lure Lauren away from me while I was paying for our art supplies.
"I'm sorry, Lauren. I don't know why that woman is calling you. We don't know her, and I need you to stay next to me." I said as I was trying to get my credit card out of my wallet far enough away from Lindsay in the snugli so that she didn't try to eat it.
"I just wanted to show her the candy," the woman said with the sadness of a deflated 6-year-old.
"We've already talked about the candy," I replied, tersely.
It's times like these I feel I know how it must be to be a rockstar with people you don't know approaching you when really, you just want a second's peace to decide which box of markers, Tootsie Pops or Blow Pops, and whether it's too early for a Christmas coloring book.
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