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What? You didn’t find her adorable?

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So in my efforts to make it look like I did something productive this weekend besides redecorate my bathroom (which turned out fabulously, thank you very much for asking!!) Olivia and I went to the grocery store to stock up for the remainder of the month.  Now, as witnessed here and here, shopping with Olivia is the opposite of fun. I’m not saying she’s out of control, but she totally is. I always have to gird my loins for shopping with Liv.

Her favorite ruse to escape the basket is giving me a hug.  “I wanna hug yew, Momma,” she’ll say, her big brown eyes wide with innocence and hurt that I might even consider not believing the altruism behind the words. “Why not Labia hug you, Momma? I jes waana hug yewwwww. C’mere, Momma anna let O’labia givva hug. Awwwwwwww.”

And then, feeling like a might ogre for NOT letting her affectionate me, I give in. “One hug,” I say. “And then back into the cage with you!”



Why yes I do have stupid stamped on my forehead. Why do you ask


So yeah, the giving in….

And then this :

turns into this:

and then this:

and eventually this:



today, for whatever reason, she was content enough to sit in the seat and let me shop in relative peace. Peace of course being subjective.  Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth (?! Huh??) I latched onto that gravy train of distraction and raced through the store, singing songs to keep her occupied and happy. “Look,” I singsonged, “Tampax is on sale! We love sa-ales!” And, “Wow! Cous cous is 3 for $5! That’s a bah-gain right there Liv! A gah-dan bahgain!” My excitement was infectious because she joined in.

“Wow, Momma! Cereal!! Cereal witha de present! Wow, Momma! WOW!” And, “See dat, Momma? See dat toiwet paper?! WOW!”

She was being good, she was sitting in the cart and I really could not have asked for more. The gods had smiled on me! I was happy. My kid was happy. She wasn’t exactly using her inside voice, but it wasn’t as bad as it has been.


We were shopping without incident!! It was a flippin mardis gras!!!


But then

we passed her:

Like I said, Liv wasn’t exactly being quiet but she wasn’t being offensive. I think the correct word would be exuberant. “OHWOW!” she exclaimed as we passed this woman. And this woman harrumphed. A full on harrumph. She rolled her eyes and shook her head and sighed impatiently. I thought maybe I’d blocked her view of the Mexican cousine and hustled to get out of her way.

We met up again in the next aisle while Olivia was extoling the virtues of her bag of Mexican animal crackers. “Anna der are de beaaaaars,” she exclaimed. “Anna de camellllls! Anna de volkswagonnnnn!” And again this woman gave me the evil eye, glared at my kid, and said, “My God!” Like she was gonna git all up in my


But, because I don’t often engage in fisticuffs with the elderly I politely ignored her and Liv and I went on our merry way. We did not meet up with bitch granny again.


we reached the checkout. Now, I had promised Olivia that if she stayed in the cart while we shopped that when we checked out she’d be able to ride the penny pony, so she was uberstoked when we reached the checkout line. “Oh Momma,” she exclaimed. “Labia ride on de horsey now?! Pwease Momma? Pwease? Yes, thank yew! Yes!!” Naturally that was when we passed bitch granny who did not disappoint.

“Honestly,” she said in a sigh that beat all sighs ever sighed by the put out. “Does she have to yell all the time?”

Insert the sound of baskart tires squealing to a halt. I am very non-confrontational – especially with my elders. Probably only with my elders come to think of it. But c’mon. She’d issued the challenge. I pulled my cart in directly behind her in the line even though there were 3 shorter lines available. Even better? I turned it around so that Liv was right next to the woman.

“Are you gonna ride the pony Liv?” I asked.

Her exuberance practically shot her out of the cart and into the ceiling. “OH YES, MOMMA! YES!! O’labia RIDE DA PONY!! YEAH!! PONY PONY PONY!!!!”

And then? When the lady finished paying and glared at me and my daughter again before she left? I said, “Say bye-bye to the nice lady, Livvy!”

She did not disappoint. “BYE-BYE NICE WADY! BYE-BYE!!”

It was a small moment of triumph but one that I will carry with me to light dark times.





About Sassy

Absolutely average in every way.

3 responses »

  1. Tear Tear sniff sniff. I’m so sorry you see she does infact have to yell all the time. Snif sniff sniff. You see she has a congential voice box tumor that makes her unable to control the level of her speech. We are so saddened because the same gene has also robbed her 2 sisters of their hearing – so really that yelling is a gift so that her siblings can share in her speech and live through her expression, seeing as in addition to their loss of hearing they are both drooling retarded mutes. Tear tear tear. Breakdown.
    end scene

  2. Congrats. You should feel very proud of yourself. That is unless the lady dies because Labia burst her eardrum and is slowing dying from the infection. Surely, someone like that has no family or support network and if she calls life alert, they have probably been instructed to ignore her because she is such a bitch. I hope she dies and you are happy.

  3. Well… I don’t want her to die. That’s not my thing baby, but I wouldn’t mind if perhaps she stubbed a toe or bruised her shin.

    No one harrumphs at my kid but me, got it?!


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