ibeachalot's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There's a Wal~Mart in Hell! I was there! Wanna hear somethin' cool? Out of the twenty~five or so diaries I read everyday, I have the following: ~ Two Jessicas ~ a Brandee and a Brandy ~ a Sommer and a Summer ~ two guys ~ several girls under the age of fourteen ~ and several people whose first name I don't even know! I'm sure no one else finds this as fascinating as I do, but... I'm easily amused. We went to that Wal~Mart again today. You'd think I had an unnatural attachment to it er something. Kevin wanted to see it and we had a few things we needed to get anyhow. The kids were absolutely horrible rotten awful little bastards. It always starts before we even leave the fucking house. "Can I bring a toy to play with in the car?" (I'll translate for those of you without children... "Can I bring the toy that will piss off my brother the most that I'll forget all about shortly after entering the vehicle and will drop down between the seats of your new car which will force you to have to get down on your hands and knees to pry out three weeks from now when I wonder what happened to it?" After the argument sudbsides and we agree upon which stupid toy(s) will accompany us on our trip, the next fight begins. They fight about whether or not the other has turned on his DVD headphones. "My headphones are on. Yours are off." "NO! Mine are on! Yours are off!" This will go on until... A) the engine is started and the movie begins or B) Mommy shouts, "THEY'RE BOTH ON! NOW SHUT UP AND WATCH THE MOVIE!" Upon arriving at the store, the children are required to get the next fight underway. I have the weirdest children. Griffin refuses to sit in a regular cart. He insists upon sitting in one side of those double carts. Okay, fine. A problem easily remedied. Jameson, age four and curious as a cat, needs to sit in a cart, strapped in. I will allow him to walk on shorter trips, depending on his mood and what kind of day he's having. On longer shopping trips, he's just too much to handle loose in the store. Encouraging him to sit in the cart only pisses him off. Many a time, I've had to shop with him screaming in the cart. Then there's Evan. At age two, I couldn't get him to sit in a shopping cart if my life depended on it. I used to have to shop at night when Kevin could stay home and watch him because he was impossible in stores. Now, at age seven and 73 pounds, Evan wants to sit in the shopping cart. Not the seat in the basket, but the side seat on the double cart. This makes for a very heavy load to haul. Today, they were all three exercising their opinions very loudly. I have never been so embarrassed as I was today while Jameson screamed obscenities at me for not buying him a Barney toy. For Chrissakes, this kid isn't even into Barney anymore and if he were, he has a hundred or so Barney toys from which to choose at home. After about forty five minutes of the screaming, I told Kevin to take Jameson into the toy department, let him choose an inexpensive toy (wait, don't reprimand me yet!) to shut him the fuck up, then we would take it away from him when we got to the car. I know it wasn't the most brilliant parenting move, but dammit I couldn't take any more screaming. I also couldn't take any more of those "looks" from fellow patrons. You know the look, right? The look we used to give the parents of bratty children before we had brats of our own. If my boys were so dern gorgeous, I'd likely trade them in for girls. We bought a new DVD player at WM today. I even hooked it up all by myself. And no, I didn't blow up the house in doing so. Whew, I think I'm headed for bed. I'm spent. I feel crampy and yucchy and I'm hoping my loving family ... (cough*sputter*choke) ... will let the old broad sleep in tomorrow. Yeah, that was pretty funny, wasn't it? See you then. 9:32 p.m. - 2003-05-31 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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