Whose your Mommy?

I like driving in the car.  I like to unwind and zone out.  Driving on the highway can be therapy, decompressing therapy that is, unless you have kids in  the car with you!  Recently we lost our beloved 10 yr old Honda Odyssey mini-van (thanks to the transmission) and had to down size to a 5 seater gas miracle hatch back.  Not only was I in shock at the downsize but the kids were touching each other!  Skin to skin contact…and this literally threw them over the edge.  All zen was gone and our daily trips are reduced to “Get on your own side…ew you stink, you’re breathing on me, stop moving around, you’re making a mess” and most recently my older son yelled at his younger brother “Shut up, you’re a butt face loser!”  The youngest thought this was hysterical and laughed non-stop for several miles as he repeated “butt face loser” over and over.  I downplayed the adjectives hoping he would forget them.

Enter Wal-mart:  A few days later I had to run some errands at Wal-mart.  My youngest came with me as he usually does.  I was on a mission focused on my task at hand.  I never noticed him eyeing up the shopper in the aisle with us.  I never saw the devious smile spread across his face.  I never witnessed the twinkle in his eye.  I only heard him belt out “You’re a butt face loser!” followed by hysterical giggles.  Hoping his words were incomprehensible I cautiously glanced at the older woman who was the victim of his adjective abuse…I offered a sheepish smile as he continued to roar with laughter attempting to repeat the words but was stopped by his hysterics.  She looked at me fully aware of what was said to her and replied “Nice.”  By this time others had gathered in the aisle and were curious as to what was so funny.

Cashing in on all of the times I was assumed to be the nanny I loudly replied “C’mon let’s go find your Mommy!!”  I saw the hint of confusion on his face but zoomed the cart out of the aisle before he could catch his breath and call me “Mommy” or ask any questions.

Desperate times call for desperate measures…whose your Mommy??

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9 responses to “Whose your Mommy?

  1. Pingback: Summer, Hippies and Hoes | The Botut Blog

  2. Pingback: Summer, Hippies and Hoes | The Botut Blog

  3. My son’s hair is the exact color of mine and it is a rare shade of red. Luckily I can pretend I don’t know the other two.

  4. Nice move! If I forget to put my wedding rings back on after doing dishes and venture out in public with my kids, I feel like the nanny.

    Once, when my son was 3 or 4, he looked at me from the shopping cart and asked (loudly), “Who are you?” I just laughed nervously, looking over my shoulder for the authorities to come lock me away for kidnapping.

    • LOL I guess you made it out of the store with the authorities intervening!

      I was desperate and suddenly recalled all of the times I was asked “Where’d you get them at?” or “You must be the nanny.” People can be incredibly forward and absolutely rude. But this time, I took the opportunity to play the nanny role. And I’m sure I’ll do it again if the need arises.
      Beth

  5. Hahaha! This is hilarious! What a great cop out. 😉

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