I promised I would make chicken enchiladas for dinner yesterday so I had to stop at the grocery store on the way home to pick up a few ingredients. I am not a fan of going to the grocery store, especially when I am in a hurry. What is up with these people that bring every member of their extended family and then they all stand around blocking the aisles with these deranged looks on their faces like they have never seen food before? These people better get the hell out of my way. I am on a mission and I will run you over. Actually, I am too polite.... I would never actually run anyone over without nicely asking them to move it first.
Before I even made it to the store, I had to stop at the library to pick up some books that I had requested. I made the big mistake of arriving right as pre-school story hour was getting out. There was a very long line at the checkout and of course each kid had 20-30 books and some even had 20-30 books on tape which of course takes forever because the librarians have to carefully examine each tape and write their initials on the little checkout label.
As I am waiting in line, this mother and son come up behind me in line and the little boy, who was maybe 2 or 3, starts swinging on the dividing chain which of course starts whacking everybody standing in line in the legs. His mother gets all bent out of shape and starts yelling "Fielding Farwell Fitzpatrickl! Stop that now" The kids name was Fielding Farwell Fitzpatrick! OMFG!!! I just knew this kid was going to be a pain in the ass.
During the time that Fielding was standing in line, he managed to kick and scratch his mother, lift up some poor woman's skirt, knock the divider over, tear a page in a book, and just be a real pest. The worst part was hearing his mother say his name over and over. "Fielding! Fielding! If you don't straighten up right now , you are not going to get a treat." Oh my God shoot me now!!!
So I finally escape Fielding and make it to the store. I was halfway through my shopping when I hear it in the distance... Fielding!..... Fielding!..... I look up and see the devil child himself running towards me with this big ass frosted doughnut in his hands. Just what the kid needs.... SUGAR!!!! He runs right up to me and grabs me around the legs. His mother marches up to us and snatches him up and throws him in the basket. I look down and there is pink frosting all over my pants. I now hate Fielding Farwell Fitzpatrick. Arghhhhhhhh! His mother does not even apologize, which does not really surprise me. With a mother like that, I would hate to see what precious little Fielding is going to be like in a few years when he starts school. I really do feel sorry for teachers sometimes.
Should I be afraid? No Mas!!! Ha! My little dogs hate clothes and I have never put one of them in my purse! Please!!! Well, maybe I lied.... I am guilty of making them wear Halloween costumes....does that count?