first of all. do. not. go. to. Walmart. on. a. Saturday. unless you want to see everyone you know. definitely definitely don’t go without makeup and without having brushed anything. (and with scabs on your face)

me so sorry. I promise it’s not contagious.

I’m sorry if you saw me at Walmart today. I’ll try harder next time.

In other news, my parents bought a house. They’ve spent a lot of time working in the yard and we went to hang out during some of it yesterday. C was running around like a lunatic in the yard and I was so afraid she was going to run into the street. As I watched the cars drive by, I kept thinking that I wished speed limits were 10 mph in residential areas. which reminded me of a period in time when I was a teen driver and the mean old b around the corner told me to slow down every time I drove by…even though I was abiding by the speed limit. I was a newish driver and I was proud to do the right thing/ terrified of the police. 3/4 of that last statement is still correct, btw.

this went on for a period of like 6 months. I don’t know why she was always outside, but that’s beside the point.

I remember one day it was late October and I was going to the hospital children’s ward to take the kids trick or treating. we were supposed to be dressed up and I decided to go as a Christmas tree. I had on brown tights, a tree skirt for a skirt, a green turtle neck with Christmas balls safety pinned on it (thanks for putting out your Christmas decorations obscenely early Wal-Mart), and a tree angel on my head.

I headed off to go to the hospital and drove by the lady’s house (going the speed limit, not fiddling with the radio, and hands at 10 and 2) and the lady told me arms fully waving “SLOOOOWWWW DOOOWWWNNN!”

I slammed on the brakes. I had had enough! I got out of the car in my Christmas Tree costume, balls just a dangling, and mad-walked the 50ish feet over to where the lady was standing.

as long as I live I will never forget her face. for starters, she was a slight woman and I probably looked like a angry Eastern European weight lifter. an angry Eastern European weight lifter dressed as a Christmas tree. balls and all. double entendre intended.

she looked 30% disbelief, 30% fear, and 30% astonishment, and 10% pure confusion. I am just guessing at the percentages here. statistics never were my strong suit. when I got over to where she was I simply said “you tell me to slow down every day. every day I’m doing the speed limit. do you really think I would dress up as a Christmas Tree to go take children in the hospital trick or treating if I had intentions of running them over?!?” and I walked off. ok, more like jingled off before she had a chance to respond.

at the time and up until about 3 hours ago, I thought I was right and fully within my rights to drive down that road at the posted 25 and confront that lady. now, as a mom of a darter, I get it. to the b around the corner, I’m sure 25 might as well have been 100mph while blindfolded, eating a burrito and texting.

I still think she could have left the dramatics to the thespians, but hey, that was part of jig. I know that now I am the old b around the corner and if I piss off a few teens trying to protect my kids-so be it.

at least i’ll know both sides of the story if I am ever approached by a Christmas Tree, teletubby, lawn jockey, or otherwise. and I’ll be sure to tell them “I get it. you are following the traffic laws, I’m just a crazy overprotective mom and would love it if you would please consider my house a 10mph zone”

so to the people of Walmart, I am sorry. to the b around the corner, I hope retirement is treating you well. I happily assume your duties. You may relieve your post. I gots dis.


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