JustChewing-

Geez....P-e-o-p-l-e!

I would say I'm a overall pessimistic person (I like it that way!) .
My husband? well, he's an overall optimistic person...(really irritates me!) .
So to say I give people the benefit of the doubt is usually not the case. But, I being of the generally well meaning human race (yea..right!) <---see there I go again; can suck it up with the best of them. Behind my coolly masked thoughts of doubt- can&Do smile without raising an eyebrow.


But---It's so difficult sometimes to smile in the face of adversity (my adversity: A rather hard looking woman- ya know? the kind that life slowly sucked from her, every fiber of a redeeming quality not only in looks but personality? (sighs) Anyhow......So let me set the scenario:

It's my oldest sons first prom (Gushing with excitement!!) So yea...SORRY!...I'm a dangerous combination of proud Momma/Prom Novice! Well...he has been fluctuating for weeks on the Mood of his "relationship" as to weather he is even going to the prom...fast forward to today...MOTHER TERESA!!!...finally in text format he informs me he IS going to the prom this Saturday and because of his busy schedule of Girlfriend,sports, friends, texting, texting,texting, texting he needs to go today..URGENT!!!! the only time he can possibly squeeze me in to drive,pay, and order flowers for HIS girlfriend is exactly 3:15 when his beautiful face exits the bus and resumes to honor me with his presence.

So...I smile as I often do (without an eyebrow arch) agree to his demands and begin rearranging my schedule...Here it goes...

1) Call and get directions to the place .

2) Multi-tasking-Tell Rocco ( baby) to stop dripping chocolate milk from his sippy cup onto the linoleum in dot to dot like pictures/ yes..uh huh..on main st? -same time still getting directions.

3) 11 yr old daughter(Isabella) is screaming about slipping in the chocolate milk and isn't going because she can't find a new pair of socks that match/slams her bedroom door.

4) Me screaming throughout the house to whoever is listening that we have to get there before four .

5) My second oldest son (Nicholas) reminding me that he has a soccer game tonight .

6) My baby-Rocco pulling at my shirt hem exclaiming that he wants to go to Nicky's' soccer game/ while the evil sippy cup that is on it's last leg (teeth marks and all) is dripping onto my shirt!

7) closing my eyes for a fraction of a second and pray for MORE rain!!!!!!!!!!

8) All the kids except baby Rocco start to argue about who's schedule is more important and why the others is LAME!!!!!!

9) Rocco still votes for Nicky's Soccer! running in circles around the house yelling " I love soccer" " I love soccer" over and over and over.............

10) My husband call and in his ever so optimistic voice says "hello, honey!".


11) I growl (perfectly natural response) and say " Hello? My ASS!"



Fast forward:


So the crew and I jump in the van, and thank GOD it's raining..because by the time everyone has claimed front, back right, a discussion over who got stuck in the back last time (with my son Nicholas winning the back right by reminding us that he gets car SICK if stuck in the very back) and the ever frustrating car seat! we have diplomatically, if not by pecking order decided who sits where. Now my backside is soaking wet (thanks to the horrid contraption called a car seat) my hair is deflated, and I forgot my shirt was spotted with chocolate milk..never the less, we are on the road...oh yea...the question I dread to ask "did anyone lock the door?" because either its a blissful "yes" or it's a knock down drag out argument about who was last out the door...of course it was the latter.......


Getting to the point:


We arrive at the ever so fancy Tux shop....and it's turns out to be a high end clothing , bags, jewelry store with a tuxedo business to the back. Yippy!... So I inform all occupants the standard "don't touch anything" rule and mind your manners mixed with a bit of idle threats to end the little powwow.


We enter and the troops are amazingly stuck to my sides. I think the sheer wow factor of the place has stunned and mystified them. So we linger abit and I try to get a feel for the place...I can tell already that it's going to be expensive. Finally a little mousy looking woman ask if she can help us.....I inform her that we need a tux for this young man (I'm beaming) and Alexander is cringing :) We are no sooner walked over to a table before a Cruella Devil look alike on a good day comes whipping past and drops a huge book in front of us without saying a word and disappears. So Alexander and I stare dumbfounded for a moment but take the two seats at the table and begin to scan the pages. Rocco is removing all the take home booklets from the display table and one by one dropping them under the table all the while looking around guiltily. Isabella is bringing very expensive items over to me asking if she can get them. Nicholas is checking out a shy looking girl sitting by the dressing rooms. Anyhow..... The Devil twin returns and without looking at us (which is good because we may just very well been turned to stone) takes out a notepad and starts asking us general questions. One was what date will we need this.....Here's me...clearing my throat readying myself to disclose the words I know will send her into a tizzy;April 25th....Then she LOOKED at me!!! my son who is usually oblivious to anything but admiration for himself was looking at me like you POOR, POOR woman... Ahem!! just a reminder Alexander....This is your fault!!!! Well....the date I gave her didn't sit well but of course for a price it can be express delivered...OF COURSE!!! and hey...I don't mind eating the cost due to my lack of PROM knowledge......I'm a prom Novice, and didn't realize that you need to order a tux two weeks prior to event...Geez!! (everybody but me knows that) After that shocker, the lady resumed her speed of light work and before we knew it she had yanked the one book from our grasp and dropped from the heavens it seemed considering the thud a more e-c-o-n-o-m-i-c-a-l portfolio of tuxes for our choosing....I mean Geez!...no glass of champagne for me? Heck, I almost asked if they had a bottle of Vodka...ya know...mother's little helper-

By this time I decided I didn't like her attitude and my son kicked my shoe under the table and with his eyes pleaded with me NO!!!!...because he knows my temper! We have a saying in our family that you don't mess with the Lioness or her Cubs....exactly!...I might have been wearing my MOM jeans but I have boots with KIck your Ass all over them.....That certain moment, that snap, that face contortion I do...my kids know it well...and it has never failed to rear it's ugly head at just the right moment. But...I decided I was not going to let this lady get to me..I mean after all I have four kids with me, and I'm wearing my MOM jeans...and my confidence isn't exactly at it's highest peek with chocolate milk and deflated hair screaming <-----------she's a housewife!!!!!!!!!! and this lady was obviously born before Christ, well-to-do (husband or multiple husbands), and has nothing else to do besides WORK to feel important? empowered? needed?

If you hate your job; quit!

Nothing like asking the check out clerk " how are you today?" only to hear " Tired, and ready to get out of here!!! <-----can you say AWKWARD



PS: What really irritated me about the whole tux scenario is at the very end....



While my son the whole time was fluctuating between feeling sorry for me, being afraid of what I might do, and cringing, and being dumbfounded by this woman's hostility...well, it took that first time experience that you NEVER have again and tarnished it just a little. And bless his soul at the very end after I paid and before leaving the counter he said "thank you" and the lady didn't respond ...so being the ever so trusting kid that he is, I could see it in his face that he didn't think she heard him so he said as we were walking toward the door, and a chin over his shoulder "thank you" ...smiling that great smile of his, and that glint in his eye...guess what? Cruella didn't even look up, or respond once.



The Moral: Throw a Kid a bone..why don't cha???



If the lady is tainted to teenagers because of her line of work, and I'm sure she deals with many smart mouthed, know it all punks...but if your tainted and you see a glimmer of hope (ie: my son) the least you could do is say "Thank you"


-ChewyChews