Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Not My Etiquette

This past weekend, I was traipsing around the supermarket, lost in my own terribly important thoughts like, "Who cured the bacon and what was wrong with it to begin with?" and "I must find Cadbury Creme Egg goo, immediately, or hostages will have to be taken!" when my train of thought was rudely interrupted by some squalling little red-faced toothless thing, strapped ceremoniously to its male-human's chest like a fleshy, pink hell-parachute.

"She might need changing." its female human helpfully suggested and the man nodded in agreement, passed his cart to the female and took the screeching serpent child outside to the car to get a diaper status update.

No, that's what happened in my dreams.  What he actually did was unstrap that wailing banshee from his pectorals, gently laid it down on a rack in the bakery counter - a counter where they put bread and tasty, flaky baked goods - and then proceeded to undo the demon child's panty region and poke around for foreign matter as though he were indeed, checking the density of dough.

What the shit, guy?

When I don't have my baby I will never de-poop it in the supermarket; I will never take photos of its olive green liquid poop jamboree to share on Facebook;  I will never sniff its non diaper in a public place and make people who are browsing the impressive cake section, consider projectile vomiting into a cheesecake.

No, the baby I'm not having will be perfect.  A quiet, clean, non-pooping, non-vomiting, non-squalling, in fact non-existent, little ball of perfection.

That's the big advantage about not having a baby, it can be anything you damn well want.

4 comments:

  1. One of the things I detest most about the supermarket is those stoopid-ass Parent Parking Spots (Not sure if you have them your way). Like a spraypainted outline of a pram on the bitumen is going to make me not park there. Shyeah right! Now, a disabled park I respect, but some stoopid-ass mum who wants to park near the door 'cause she has an off-road stroller the size of a small car... I don't think so. And usually those parents have a stoopid-ass "Baby On Board" bumper sticker. One day I'm gonna tear one off and replace with a "Congrats, You're Fertile, Now Stop Overpopulating the Planet" sticker. Don't get me wrong, I don't have it in for all parents... just the stoopid-ass ones.

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  2. Hm. I think you've actually put more thought into the specifics of this than I have, V.A.! That's an impressive listing of attributes, and they are beauts.

    I need to stop just waltzing into things, expecting the best. I need to open my fucking eyes and squint down the road ahead a bit!

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  3. Mel: OH! OH OH! Those parking spots for mothers. Drive me crazy also. Because apart from the giant buggy thing, you're not effing disabled if you're a mother and what - your snotty kid can't walk fifty yards into a store without keeling over? Please. Do I get a parking spot by the door because I once twisted my ankle on a trampoline or when I have the flu? No. Pah.

    Dogstah: I'm just enjoying the chance to vent some bile about this stuff by abusing our subject matter just a touch. :)

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  4. Oh definitely!

    I'm kind of looking forward to not having this kid around. Shall we share custody? You can not have the baby on Wednesdays through Fridays, I'll not have the baby on Saturday Sunday and Monday.

    Tuesdays we'll alternate!

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