Shopping Centre Kid Ban

So, I am doing my Saturday morning shopping. It seems I accidentally walked into the "National Bring Your screaming kids to the shops Day". Hmmm, I didn't see a sign advertising this anywhere...I know I didn't, because if I had seen the sign, then I would have surely avoided leaving the house today.

I by-pass all the shops parents use to baby sit their kids:- The $2 Shop, The Toy section of K-Mart & Target, EB Games, Kids Section of Borders & Dymocks, The "Cinema" room at Harvey Norman and basically anywhere that a Wii, PS3 or Xbox was setup in store for people to play.

I did pretty well avoiding the whiny assed-whingey-sooky la la -tantrum throwing – Squealing (***Shudder***)-snotty nosed-poopy scented- spoilt bratty feral kids and their respective "Deaf to the Cries & squealing of their Own Offspring" parents.

My trolley was full & I was next in line to be served by the checkout baby who was employed by the massively under staffed "National branded" supermarket.

Call it bad luck, call it karma or call it fate...But then "Hampton" and his Mum parked their trolley behind me. Clearly Hampton, had the grumbles and "Mum" was still putting on the "I am the Adult & I am IN control" face. "Get down Mummy...Get Down? Mummy, I wanna get down, MUUUummmmmy.....Mum...Mummy – I want to get dooooooownn...I wannaaaa...Muuuuuuuuummmmmmmyyyyyyy...Can I mum...can I get doooownnNNNN!"

"No Hampton honey- just sit in there for a bit longer"

" Mu U U u U Um m Y y y Y" *Insert image of child bouncing in seat*

"Stop it Hampton....Don't annoy Mummy while we are shopping".

"But I want to get down mummy"...*insert fakey cry* "I want to get doooown mummmmy...."

With a small sigh, Mummy pulls Hampton out of the trolley and light as a feather, puts him on the ground between me and the front of their trolley.

Hampton is now happy and immediately grabs the strategically placed Kinder Surprise and with a huge innocent look, gazes up at his Mum and says."Please Mummy?"

Mummy looks at her little miracle of creation and with a smile , a sweet little gaze back and as her gentle caring hand tucks back a strand of barely there pure blonde angelic looking hair on Hampton's forehead...Says..."Not today Hampton...Another day".

There!!! DID you see that?? Did you see what she DID!???.....She pressed the button. THE button....

The next thing I know – there is a ringing in my ears....No...Not a ringing- more of a squeeeling- nope that not right either....It's Like a "Ahhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeee"....similar to the noise a high pitched dog whistle would make- only us humans can hear it clearly.

I look down and Hampton is standing stiff as a board...back arched, arms wedged by his side, eye contact locked in with his mother and he is sucking in the earth's atmosphere ,pressurising himself for what I can only imagine is gonna be the mother of all tantrums.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I know what's coming but panic hinders my ability to find my escape route. There is a shopping trolley in front of me- With Grandma & Grandpa Smith loading it up.....slowly. MY trolley is at the end of this checkout with half my groceries unloaded and half already scanned in. Hampton is behind me, with Hampton's trolley then Hamptons mum behind that. (What the..? She moved there fast! I didn't even see it happen....A little bit tooooo convenient me thinks!)

And.

There.

He.

Goes.

The windows vibrate. The dogs' four suburbs away cower in fear. The birds fall from the sky mid flight and somewhere...someone, ironically, have just found out they are going to be parents and are ecstatic.

My eardrums explode and every set of eyes in the shop- Nay...."the Universe" -Look at me. Clearly I am "the parent" as I am the adult standing next the child.

I look down and Hampton is on his back. He's type of turned a bright Scarletty orangy red, the Kinder Surprise is crushed in his hand, his legs are kicking like Thorpey at the Olympics and he is SKAREEEEMING over and over again...."I WAAaaaaaaannnT a Chockwaaaat".

With resignation, Hamptons Mum moves the trolley, stands him up and tries to reason with him. Uh huh...riiiiiight....

He flops down again and as his mother tries to pick him up, he goes horizontal in her arms and I feel all the eyes of the shop-Nay again...."The Universe"- shift from me to HER. Hamptons' arms and legs flail wildly and little bits of crushed Kinder Surprise sprinkle all over me and anything else in a 10 metre radius.

Hamptons mum says "Sorry- he should have been having his nap an hour ago" Well... I don't know if she actually says it out loud, I Think that's what she said because I CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING!!!

I just give her a little tight lipped smile as I dust off the Kinder Surprise and I say in typical Aussie fashion..."Nah love, you're right..."

And this is the reply in my head...

"Are you kidding me lady? Its one hour past his Nap time and you are STILL out shopping?? What? He has his naps at random times each day and you can never tell when it's going to happen? Really? ... Just Like...Randomly?"

"Oh...and He's annoying YOU?? What the hell do you think he's doing to US, the normal people who aren't genetically LINKED enough to be able to IGNORE his whining? "

Then I would have gone all "Springer" on the onlookers...With the Waving finger and the head shake and the Big eyes and hand on the hip and everything....!

"Naah Uhhh...THAT *point with attitude* is Not Ma Child, No way No How! MY Child does NOT doooo THAT! MY Children are at home where they should be -**Glaring at Hamptons Mum** HAVING. THIER. NAP!!! -Like they Aaaaalways do at this time of day". *Insert over exaggerated wave of the arm with the pointy finger up and pointing in the general direction of home* *Snap fingers*

Then I would go all Bad Clint Eastwood mixed with Bad Jack Nicholson on cute lil Hampton....

I would pick him up by scruff of his shirt, pull his snotty little face next to mine-and he'd shut the hell up because he was all intimidated and scared ...and I'd say all gravelly voiced, yet quiet like- in his face.

"Your Mother said 'NO' kid...'NO'. And don't even think about that tantrum kid-because I'll tell you now...BAD Men LOOK for kids like you. Kids that cry and whine and whinge at their Mums in the shops because they Know if they STEAL that kid, that no-one's going to miss them......you know WHY? ....Hampton?...because the parents will have PEACE.AND.QUIET."

"Hell, Hampton... they may even have a Party to celebrate-with a cake and balloons and everything- They may even go get themselves another kid-a GOOD kid who doesn't whine and throw tantrums in the shop and make them all embarrassed."

So you just keep crying and whining and throwing those LOUD tantrums Hampton. The BAD men are watching you.

Then I would stand up-pay for my shopping –Tip my hat and say "Ma'am" to Grandma Smith. Then walk away.

Spider in the car!

13 FEB 2006

A crap start to the day ....We got up on time and all was well. Kids were fed and dressed. It was a little later than I bargained...but hey.
We were down stairs and in the car by 25 past 7. Girl Child was to go next door to H's, but I wanted to drop her out the front to be sure that she was inside ok.

So we all get in the car.....I reach up to adjust the rear view mirror. ...and Eeeeeeeesh....Oh My god, there is a Spider about the size of a milk bottle lid sitting on it.......
No wait.....Look closer via Mirror....it's not ON the Mirror....it's on the rear window of the car...
No ...Wait .....a.....minute......
I look back over my shoulder to the rear window....It's INSIDE the car on the rear window...and it's Fk'g HUGE !!!!!!!!!

In a Blinding white panic I scream at the kids....GetOutOfTheCar!!...GetOutOfTheCar!!...GetOutOfTheCar!!!...!
Get your bags and get OUT of the GODDAMNED Bloody Car...NOOOOOOW !

So there I am ...Standing in the middle of my communal underground garage....hands on hips...Pacing...Hyprventaliting... "OhMyGod...Oh My god...OH MY GOD...it's fk'n huge...Oh my god"...

I send Girl Child upstairs to get the fly spray....and the broom. I don't know why.
I am panicking. I know that I am not going to be able to kill the hairy beast, let alone get it's huge grotesque hairyassed corpse out of the car.

I run upstairs and ring my work mate...(Yes..i left the children in the Garage alone with said 8 legged HB.) ...
"I'll be late" I manage to sob tearfully into the phone.
"Oh ...What's happened...are you Ok?..are the Kids ok?.......She gasps..
"There's a huge Mother Fk'r spider in my car....
Bloody Huge...Megs...FK'N Huge....I can't ....It's....It's like...Fk'n HUUUGE...."
"OK OK...I get it..."
"No...Megs...It's HUUUUUUUGE....
"It's alright....have..."
"No..it's Not..it's NOT alright...it's fk'n huge and I can't...."
"Ok ok...I know...I know...you are scared...it's ok...slow your breathing down...is there anyone there who can get it?... .
"No...well..I think the neighbour is home..."
"You want me to come and get you...and kill the spider?"
"YES...but you have to kill it...I can't leave the car with it still alive in there..."....
(Yes..Yes... I know... ...I just asked my friend to drive all the way here, from Sydney city...just to come and kill a spider in my car!)
"Are you sure....?" Meg asks.
Was that just a snigger I heard on the phone then?

"No...wait..I will do it...I need to face my fears.. I can do it....I can DO this"
Megan assures me she can come and help if I desperately need her to...
I go back downstairs. JUST in time to see the guy that owns the car parked next to ours...putting a jacket and brief case in the back of his car.

" ExcUuuUUuuse me!!!... How good are you at killing spiders?"

"Aaaaaaahhhhhh.....well..."
"I would get my husband to do it, but he's gone to work already and I am a HUGE Aracnophobe"..*insert nervous embarrassed giggle here*.Don't want him knowing the man of the house is away.
He says "Ok"...I am like ..."Oh...thank you thank you"

The gentleman grabs what looks like a serviette out of the back of his car.You know one of those decent sized square ones....
"It's on the back window inside the car" I say, “It’s Huge"....He gives me a little glance...Like he's saying..."Huge Huh?....Whatever lady"....
He opens the car door and just before he pops his head in....I realise that he HAS to do this properly....He can't half do it...injure it...and make it angry and hairy and running around annoyed like, in my car.
So I tell him..."OK...You HAVE to kill it FIRST go...you can't just half kill it...and it can't run away...because if I can't see where it goes I will never get in that car ever again....and I would REALLY appreciate it if you could take it's body out of the car...and there can't be little bit's of it left.....I'm so sorry but Like I said..I am a Huge arachnophobic!"
Man looks at Girl Child and Boy Child....And the kids are just nodding.

..Uh huh!"


So he opens the rear door and pops his head in...And even HE's like..."JEEEESUS...that IS big.."...and I am like..."I KNOW!!!! He gets back out....OPENs up the Serviette he had in his hand, because he knows the way it was...was just not going to be big enough.
I am standing there..in the middle of the underground car park...with the kids...watching a complete stranger climb in my car, to battle the She devil of all spiders.
I dance and jiggle on the spot...my body is getting ready to do "flight or fight" thang....I am betting...and you KNOW it...it will be "Flight".
See ya later kids...fend for yourselves....

THUNK!!!......That's it...I am jiggling up and down doing circles on the spot and shaking my hands like a voodoo dance queen squealing like a baby pig stuck in a trap....


The Kids are like "YAY... .".
...The man says...”Do you have a cloth or something because it type of gooped on the window"....

I grab some random cloth from the garage...I don't care if it's got Petrol or acid on it...just as long as the man gets the Spider guts out of my car.
I thank him profusely forty times...in rapid succession.
He says it was "nothing" and goes to give me the cloth that he just used to clean up Arachnogizzards from the inside of my car.

+in my head+..."Aahhhhhhh...Excuuuuuse me .
I am WAY not touching THAT after you wiped up spider guts with it!"

"Girl Child...go and put that in the bin"....Good little girl does as asked.

SO that was the start to my day....I was 45 minutes late leaving for work.

The fun of random SMSing...

Let me set the scene...

I am home, job hunting because I am jobless. Hubby is home because he is sick...(mansick *coff*coff*)...

It's boring,there's nothing new on Seek.com that I have not already applied for.(Stupid economic crisis!)

next thing....

ratta tat a tat....tatta tata ratta tat..(I have the sound of a machine gun firing as my message ringer). Available from Mobile9.com http://gallery.mobile9.com/f/793202/

__________________________

12 June 2009

+61400609***@ 0939 -What you doin bro its damo

Me-@ 0940 - What you doing? This ain't who you think it is! I am a girl, not a Bro.

+61400609***@ 0941- Who is it

Me-@ 0944 - It doesn't matter who i am! I have no idea who you are...so my guess is that you have just sms'd the wrong number. It's okay it happens. But on the upside at least you know i am not rude and let you think your friend was ignoring you ;)

+61400609***@ 0950 – Yer thanx but how old r u

Me-@ 0952 – oh i am like OLD OLD. Like i could be your mummy old. Why? You after a cougar?

+61400609***@ 0954 - Nah Fuck that do you know aran?

Me-@ 0957 – Tall fella? About 21?

+61400609***@ 0959 – Nar small c**t about 15

Me-@ 0959 – And you shouldn't use swear words when you don't know who I am. I could be your Mum's friend :)

+61400609***@ 1000 – Nar you ant my mums frnd

Me-@ 1000 – Does Aran know that's what you call him? That's not very nice, you know!

Me-@1001 – Maybe i am you friends mum...

+61400609***@ 1002- Nar you talk shit

Me-@ 1004 – How do you know?

+61400609***@ 1004 - I just know what do you look like

+61400609***@ 1009 – whats your name

Me-@ 1009 – Did you type Arans number in or did you use the phone memory?

+61400609***@ 1010 – typ it in y

Me-@ 1011 – Where do you live? Are we even in the same state? And why aren't you at school?

+61400609***@ 1013 – got Friday off and i live in QLD

Me-@ 1014 – Really? I am in Qld too...maybe i am the mother of one of your friends!

+61400609***@ 1016 – yer whats yer name

Me-@ 1017 - ....Time will tell... Next time i see you i will give you a hint to let you know!

+61400609***@ 1018 – so you kno me

+61400609***@ 1045 – so do you know me?

+61400609***@ 1439 – oi who is this

+61400609***@ 1550 – hey why don u answer me whats ur name

__________________________

Hubby just sits there shakin' his head as I read out the sms's to and fro....laughing and giggling like an idiot.

"You bored babe?..... Man...You need a job....

No Pickles!

It's Thursday night. I am at the local McDonalds. It's busy and there are four lines going strong. I am second in line at my register.

You know that scene in Jurassic Park where the ground vibrates and you see it in the cup of water and the puddles on the ground? It's the part, where you know something BIG is coming. You can't see it yet but you KNOW it's coming and it isn't gonna be pretty!

That's what I felt. BOOM....BOOM...BOOM....I turn to my right, just in time to see this monolith of a woman pushing her way through the waiting customers. In her hand she has an unwrapped Cheeseburger. The crowd parts as she approaches. Someone's small child is almost stepped on...... Her sheer size takes up two checkouts.

With a resounding slap, she slams the Cheeseburger on the counter in front of the 15 year old Makkas dude and says...."I said NO PICKLES!" The Makkas boy pees his pants, stumbles back as he resists the urge to go to "Flight" and races off to get Monolith Woman a cheeseburger with No pickles.

She looks at the person next to her, glances to me and the other Makka's connoisseurs and with a roll of her eyes says... "Every time I come here....THEY stuff up my order (Stabbing the Makkas kids with her eyeballs). Every week...they get something wrong!"

Wow....there are so many things running through my head that I could say there and then. Obviously, self preservation kicks in and I shut the hell up! I am only 5 foot short and I know that this woman could eat me in one bite and she wouldn't even burp afterwards!

So, in the theme of this blog, I save up all these thoughts, and as you know, you always think of the good things after the fact! (...and with much drunken discussion with valued friends).

• Lady, just take the frickin pickles off yourself. Seriously, how hard is it? Unless you have some anaphylactic reaction to pickles and anything they touch, then it's a simple lift, pick, pull, replace action. Then Voila, Pickle free burger. Of course those movements sound a Liiiiitle bit like "exercise" but trust me, it's not.
  
• It's a $2 burger. It's not like you had to pay a $500 booking fee to hold your place in the Makkas line because the World class personal Chef of Her Majesty Queen of England has been flown in especially to make you a burger. Like I said...Take the frickin' pickles off yourself Princess Fiona!
  
• It's TWO pickles. They are not even whole pickles. Just two translucent, gauze like and almost invisible slivers of pickle discs. Do you really think those two pickles are going to affect your calorie intake for the day? I think not. They wouldn't even register an extra ripple or vibration on the Jurassic Park BOOM BOOM scale! (edit-I Googled...I know, I know, no life...anyway, one Slice of Pickle is under 1 calorie)
  
• They stuff up your order "every time, every week"? Oooookaaaay...that says a whole lot right there. Who keeps going back to somewhere where they are constantly dissatisfied? Not once, not twice, but every week???? Say, if I went to a shop and the staff there kept throwing bananas at me, and I didn't like it and then I went back and they did it again? Fuck that shit...I'd never go back there ever ...AND I'd tell all my friends. "Don't go to THAT shop Man! They throw Freakin' Bananas at you!" I wouldn't go back EVERY WEEK to get bananas thrown at me. I don't care HOW good their Burgers taste! I don't like having Bananas thrown at me!
  
• It's not like it's the ONLY Makkas in this big ass metropolitan CAPITAL city. Go to another Makkas store lady! There are 5 within a 8 second drive from this one! Sure the Makkas you go to now might have to lay off a few staff because they won't be selling as many burgers as they used to, but on the UP side, the NEW store you choose to frequent will BOOM in Profits!! You, Monolith Princess Fiona lady, could just go suburb to suburb and take turns raising profit at the various take-away franchises! Recession Solved!!
  
• Let's be honest here. You could just maybe go less to Makkas all together. I am sure your arteries, heart, Liver and joints as well as our ailing health care system would appreciate it. Beside, that'll leave more for us!
  

FINALLY... (Thanks to aforementioned drunken discussion with valued friends)...

• He's a 15 year old KID. He can't even get out of bed, clean up his room , wash his clothes or shower on a regular basis without his mother screaming at him.He gets paid the equivalent of 2 of those cheeseburgers an hour and you expect him to MAKE YOU FOOD YOU CAN EAT!???
  __________________________________

You know, I have been thinking about this. (enough to be considered "not healthy of the mind") Of course the more you frequent somewhere the more you raise your chances of getting "bad service". Like flying in a plane, the more you fly, the more chance you have of being in a plane crash!

...but... Every Week, Every Time??? Even those odds are a little too far fetched,even if it was an over exaggeration by Monolith Princess Fiona Lady.

I figured it out.

This lady is SPORT to the bored Makkas Staff! Pure and simple. They DELIBERATELY stuff her meal up, just to see how far they can push her before she explodes and truly snaps. They know she comes in so regularly, and it's fair to say that they probably know what she regularly orders. No doubt, they have a "pre-loaded pickled" pickle-less burger, made just before she is due to come in! I would even go as far as to say, that the 15 year old Makkas dude that served her was probably set up by the more experienced Makkas girls n guys, as a weird form of Initiation. I guess it's better than being dumped in dirty sink water at the end of the night!

Can I just ask you one question?

This is how it happened.

"Can I just ask you one question?"

That's all she said to me. It was enough of a distraction to make me slow down. (No No No NO…! Keep walking!!)

The trolley full of shopping stopped and lost its forward momentum… (Arrgh…bloody hell…here she comes! No eye contact!!)

I looked at her. (STEE YU PID ...I said "no eye contact"!!)

"Would YOU like to look 10 years younger?" She said.

"Who wouldn't?" I answered … (Dammit, don't engage her! Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!)

She takes my hand and starts to rub some Green slimy gritty stuff onto the back of it. (WTF!!…Unwanted Physical contact AND an unknown gooey substance! PULL AWAY! If she doesn't let go, PUNCH HER!!)

Slowly…almost mesmerizingly, she rubs the grit in small relaxing little circles…. "This 100% natural product is formulated from seaweed, sea salt and emu oil and it is 100% Australian owned and manufactured"…. (Freaking heck…she's appealing to your Aussie-ness…don't listen to her voice, she'll hypnotize you!)

"With twice daily applications, here, here and here…" …her soft hand comes up and touches my face around my eyes, nose and mouth….I can't help but look at her flawless ,19 year old, make-up –less face. I gaze into her shining blue eyes… (No….don't look directly into her eyes! NOT HER EYES!!!!)

"This cleanser, coupled with our Echidna sweat based moisturizer, is only $79.99 for the 30g jar…and with that you get the Kangaroo Scrotum buffer pad FREE!"… (You don't NEED a buffer pad….Just because it's FREE doesn't make it GOOD….Back away NOW….NOOOO! NOOOOO! Don't get out your Credit card…..Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!")

This is what SHOULD have happened.

"Can I just ask you one question?"

"Yes you can…and Honey, you just wasted that one question right then…! Bye-bye now!

Don’t thank me...Thank the laws.

So, I am driving along listening to Justin Timberlake & T.I singing "Dead & Gone"…… "I turn my head to da East…laaa…daa…laa laa….-body…by my side…" and I come up to a Pedestrian crossing.

There are 2 guys standing there waiting to cross. I slow down and stop as per the road laws of Australia, Queensland and probably most of the civilized world.

As I look, I realized that the guys waiting to cross the road are what you would call your every day "Druggies". Unkempt hair, badly dressed (faded long Board shorts, a ripped neck t-shirt and oversized collared shirt of some description, teamed with brand new expensive running shoes and no socks), scabs and sores all over their exposed body parts….and a whacked out glazed expression on their pale grey sunken eyed faces that does not allow them to open their eyes fully or close their mouths at all.

I sit there as they stare and try to figure out whether my car is still moving or not. They cautiously take a step out and to my utter enjoyment, get a little freaked out with the black and white lines on the crossing. Clearly the road markings are playing havoc with their "enhanced" perception because when they walk, one leg seems to move as it's told, while the other leg is confused and takes turns making SMALL steps…and then BIG steps. Meanwhile, the arms have drawn the hands up near their chests so they don't get in the way of walking. The aiming and steering for a straight line seems to be done by the tongue.

As they near the other side of the road, one of them put on his most civilized charming missing toothed smile…..turns around to walk backwards and waves at me saying…"Thanks Love".

I sit there and I do that…"I don't want to seem impolite and not smile "type smile where you press your lips together and only do a half smile type of thing. I give a little cursory "lift the finger off the steering wheel" wave, because I don't want these guys to mug me 2 months down the track.

What these guys don't realize is….it's not my "niceness" that made me stop at the Pedestrian crossing to let them cross. The LAW had made me stop.

Don't THANK me for obeying the law.

If it wasn't for the …"No running people over" or the "have to let people cross the road safely at the crossing "laws….. The fact that there may be witness' AND I was worried about damaging my car….

 

…I would have run your druggy ass down.