Thursday, January 26, 2012

WWF: All-day, Everyday

There are people out there that really love wrestling.  They love watching it on TV and they love actually wrestling.  I am not one of those people.  Sure, when I was younger, I watched Hulk Hogan, Randy 'Macho Man' Savage and 'Hacksaw' Jim Duggan go at it in the ring. What kid doesn't watch wrestling at least once in their lives?  But after I turned, oh let's say twelve, I was over it.

Now, my husband, on the other hand, loves wrestling.  He does not like watching it.  He loves to actually wrestle.

When I walk through my house, at any point, I could be ambushed.  I could be walking out of the bathroom, bending down to tie my shoe or putting groceries away.  One never knows, when my hubby will repel from the ceiling ala Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible or jump out from behind something ala Arnold Schwarzenegger in Commando to put me in a head lock.  It does not hurt me.  Just simply irritates the crap out of me.

So, when I found out I was pregnant with J, lucky me!  I got a break from the wrestling.  Then, we had the ultrasound and we found out we were having a boy.  Eureka!  Hubby will have a playmate.  J arrives via c-section so I have a couple of months of rest, then game on!  Uh-oh.  So, I quickly decide I need another break, so enter pregnancy with LT.  Find out he is a boy.  Score!  Hubby now has two playmates.  Like J, I have LT via c-section so I get a several month break from the grappling.

But, now, LT is 15 months.  I think we all know what this means.  (What?!  Get pregnant again!  You must have lost your mind!  I mean I would like to boldly walk through my house without fear of being tackled at anytime, but not so much as to get preggo!  Yikes!) What this means is that my reprieve is over and has been for sometime.

I guess I will need to brush up on my figure eight leg lock.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

And The Claws Come Out

Earlier in the week, J, L and I all pile in the car to head out to do our daily errands.  Our daily errands usually consist of the library, park (if warm) and the grocery.  Now, I won't say which grocery for the sake of propriety but I'll give you a hint.  (It starts with a 'K' and ends with a 'roger's'.)

I mean the people at the grocery love me.  They really love me.  When I walk in, they greet me at the door with a warm embrace.  I think this must be because I am one of the sole reasons for their daily profit.  If they are worrying about making any revenue for the day, they can always count on Michelle!

Anyway, as is customary, we get the huge cart that has the car at the end of it.  I know, I know.  You hate the cart.  Everybody hates the cart.  But if it buys me a few moments of peace, then I'm gonna do it!

So those of you who know J, know that he is a talker.  On this day, he proceeds to smile, wave and say, "Hi! How are you?" to everyone he sees.  Apparently, J is practicing to be a politician or a minister one day. Let's hope for the latter.

Everyone smiles in return at J and murmurs some type of greeting.  Until, two young coed's pass by us.  J smiles, waves and says, "Hi! How are you?"  They look at him, turn their heads and keep on walking.  J asks, "Why didn't they say hello, mommy?"

Oh. No. They. Didn't.  My sweet boy smiles his precious little smile at you and his little voice greets you with a hello and you don't speak! That angelic face gazes upon you and you do nothing!  What?!  Somebody hold my earrings! This is going to get ugly.

I mean, honestly, how rude and insensitive do you have to be to ignore a kid who says hello to you.  Whew. I better calm down.  I am getting fired-up just thinking about it.  (Deep breaths. Deep breaths.)

So, want I want to say to J is, "They are obviously soulless people who will die miserable and alone.  I am sorry you had to experience that, J."

Instead, I say, "They probably didn't hear you, sweetie."  J thinks about this for a beat, then he proceeds to lean out of the cart and yells to the next person he sees, "HI! HOW ARE YOU?!"

That's my boy.