The Bitch on the Beach

Day 2 of the Special K adventure. I was somewhat out of sorts, and the killer heat was getting to me. I balked quite a bit, but was overruled by Miss K, and the 5 of us headed way out of town to see some waterfalls. The drive out was uneventful, aside from the crazy dump truck drivers, and the falls (2!) were beautiful. We were quite unprepared for the time it took, and failed to bring lunch or bathing suits. Thank goodness for the lady at the farm place - those cherries saved the day. All in all, a nice jaunt into the wilds of BC.

Back home we came, for a late lunch and the next decision: where to swim. We thought we’d try the lake right down the road, but there was no shade and the boat launch wasn’t conducive to swimming. Then I decided we’d hit a local beach about 15 mins from town, one I’d never been to.

Bad. Fucking. Idea. BAD.

We get there - in 2 vehicles - and once again? No shade. It’s 37C out, and we’re not exactly equipped with an umbrella or a portable tree. Nonetheless, I leave K to tend to baby B, and go down to the water with my boys. They putz around in the shallows - weedy lake, ick - and the next thing I know J is splashing. Yep, he’s being a kid. Unfortunately, he splashed a little too much, and a woman in the shallows got sprayed. We’re talking drops. It’s not like he did it on purpose, either.

I start to tell him to stop splashing, and was about to tell him to apologize, when she got nasty:

(she’s in a small inflatable dinghy, with her teeny little dog on her lap)

Bitch: That is so disrespectful. How rude!
Me: Um. He’s 5. He’s still learning.
Bitch: Hmph. My kids are the same age, and THEY don’t act like that!
Me: O…kay. (thinking: what the FUCK is up with this woman?!)
Bitch: I just can’t believe how he’s behaving.
Me: Oh, you’re the perfect mother. Congratulations! (dripping sarcasm)
Bitch: Well, I’m certainly better than you!
Me: Wow, you’re really very nice. (even more sarcasm) I told him to stop, and he’s FIVE.
Bitch: Like mother, like son, I see!
Me: Jack!! Get over here, please. You need to stay away from other people. (he’d moved to the far side of The Bitch and I wanted him nearer.)
Bitch: (obviously thinking I didn’t hear her.) I SAID….
Me: I heard you. We’re done now. (walking away)

I vaguely overheard her talking to her son, who witnessed the entire exchange, but I have no clue how she spun it. I was - sarcasm aside - perfectly reasonable, and never swore once (yay, me!). In retrospect, however, I probably would have pointed out a few things to the bitch:

1. You are IN the water. If you do not wish to get wet, get the FUCK OUT. Sit on the sand with your weird little growly dog (who was totally disrespectful (ha!) to anyone who came near her. Like dog, like owner??).

2. If your children are seemingly banned from splashing (ie. acting like children and having FUN), then you’ve got bigger goddamn problems than what my small child is doing 5 FEET away from your ass. Furthermore, you just demonstrated horrible behaviour in front of one of those kids of yours. YOU were the disrespectful one, and I wonder how awful your kids are going to be when they grow up.

3. Who died and made you Queen Cunt of the Beach? I never got that memo, bitch.

4. I hope to god you’re not a local. If so, you are an embarrassment to the hospitality and friendliness that most people here embody.

5. You made a five year old boy CRY. Feeling like a big hero, are ya??

6. Next time, I’m going to help my children tip your fucking boat over, and then I’ll bitch slap your skinny ass into next week. You can suck it, bitch.

Jack was quite upset, since he thought I was mad at him. I wasn’t at all, and K took a few minutes to chat with him and make him understand. As much as I hated to “give in” to her in any way, we did leave quite shortly thereafter. B was sleeping in the truck, and the no shade/too hot combination was just awful, Beach Bitch aside.

Unfortunately, this entire episode ruined my day. I was angry, and thinking of all the things I should have said/done. Overall, I do think the “perfect mother” comment was pretty good, but she deserved worse. K brought me back from the brink by insisting we grab dinner fixings and head back to the lake we’d been to on Weds, and that was perfect. Nobody there but us and the bugs, and the cool green water.

A little (ok, big) part of me would dearly love to meet up with the Beach Bitch again. I’d like to think I could recognize her, but who knows. It was like a weird flashback to high school - the mean girl picking on me. Who knew I’d pick back?

I must mention D2’s reaction when she heard the story: not only would she have stayed, she would have splashed like mad, and possibly even start a sand-castle making/throwing contest. D2 would never have let it go like I did. Next time? I’m not going to be quite so nice.

Perhaps they should get some glasses. Or think before speaking.

On the news this morning, within 3 minutes of each other:

Male reporter, talking about a fire in Vancouver.
“It seems the fire started last night, at 11:30 in the morning.”

Female anchor, interviewing someone being sentenced today.
“So, isn’t there some kind of statue of limitations on this type of crime?

Betty, this one’s for you!

Somewhere, sometime (you can probably remember better than I) we had a discussion about Jem. Of “Jem & the Holograms”. Remember?? I mentioned something about being called Jem in elementary school. You didn’t remember who the heck she was!

So, for you:

Jem! And Rachel McAdams. As a bonus.

Rosie vs. The Donald

My husband, much to my shame, is a Donald fan. He loves that apprentice crap that passes for reality television. He loves the “you’re fired” tag line. He thinks The Donald is pretty damn cool. This love of The Donald means that D has landed squarely on his side in the whole “Smackdown For More Ratings” Extravaganza that seems to have erupted in the past week.

Rosie did a fucking hilarious impression of The Donald. She poked fun at him. She’s a comedian, this is What She Does. And really, she did have a teensy little point with her “moral compass” comment.

Instead of lobbing a few jokes back at Rosie, or just ignoring her, what does The Donald Dickhead do? He comes out swinging, saying nasty shit that isn’t remotely close to funny. She’s fat, she’s a loser, Kelli is going to leave her, Baba Wawa regrets hiring her.

What the fucking fuck? Get a sense of humour and dial back the sense of self-importance, AssClown. You’re a walking joke factory: the hair! the ex-wives! the affairs! the money!

Admit what the rest of the world knows is true: ALL of this hot air and face-time on various shows is because of one damn thing. The ratings for which you whore yourself. I believe last season’s somewhat poor ratings were blamed on a certain Martha? Again, manufactured “controversy.” One can only imagine what next season’s Controversy du Jour will be. I know I won’t be tuning in, at least not voluntarily.

Disconcerting.

Actual warning on a real-life gas pump. Read by yours truly while filling the minivan on Sunday evening:

All fuel are extreemly flamable.

Fail to see warning may result in injury.

Hands down, the worst case of Spellcheck-slash-Grammar-slash-Readability Ignorance EVER. Seriously. My seven year old would pick that shit apart in 2 minutes.

What the fuck?

The abuse of an apostrophe.

Some observations, for the morons who purport to be “advertising professionals” at the former CBC station in semi-big-ish city in BC:

Just because a word has been pluralized, does not mean an apostrophe is required. This is basic high-school punctuation, people. The Smith family can also be called the Smiths. NOT the Smith’s.

Repeat after me: not every word requires an apostrophe. Read up on it. I’m sure there might be some resources available online.

Duh.

Things grown men should not wear. Ever.

There was a guy in our office yesterday, wearing something that I wouldn’t put my kids in. And it had to be geared towards kids. Either that or it was some fucked-up type of sleepwear.

Just imagine it: light cotton baseball-style shirt. White. With Elm0 on it.

Elm0.

And not just one Elmo. Oh, no. There were a couple of largish Elmos on the front, and a veritable herd of Elm0s cavorting around the bottom 2/3 of the shirt. All the way around. Front, sides, back. It looked like someone vomited Elm0 all over the damn thing.

Don’t get me wrong, I like the little red dude. My kids have dragged around the Tickle Me version for some time now, and we even have a backpack shaped like Elm0. The Elm0 phone was “lost” some time ago - it was possibly the most annoying toy known to mankind, but we sucked it up and suffered through hours of Elm0 talking to the kids.

I’m thinking this guy doesn’t have a wife. Or else she’s blind. Or drunk. Or laughing her ass off at how stupid her husband looks.

Myths.

For some strange reason, today became the day I was reminded of all the weird and wonderful advice I received while pregant. Most of it was based on those old wives’ tales we all hear so much about.

For example, Karen made mention of her mother’s concern about the cats that share K’s abode. I don’t know about other cats, but mine had zero interest in the hairless flailers that arrived in the house. Sure, the boys each got a brief sniff, and then the cats were back to normal, reminding us that we are here to serve them, and it’s dinner time, thankyouverydamnmuch. That whole cat/baby/suffocating thing? Not so much an issue. Most parents - there’s always the exception - won’t let Mr. Fluffy get on top of the child and sleep there. Furthermore, most cats who act like cats - we’ve had a couple that were decidedly like dogs - want nothing to do with a smelly, wet, crying bundle that cannot feed them.

Tonight, my friend S called, asking if I’d ever given my babies sterile water (with sugar!) as babies. Her daughter - my friend and sometimes babysitter - had a baby girl a month ago, and it’s been a few years since S has cared for a newborn. Back in her day, babies did not room in, and the nurses were free to give them bottles of whatever, including water. I do recall having an older nurse give me some water for Austin when he was born, but the kid had no interest in anything beyond my chest, and it went untouched. There was no such offer with Jack. I gently told S that babies don’t seem to get thirsty for anything but the breastaurant, which is what Mother Nature intended. I wanted to tell her that she should probably forget most of what she was told 20+ years ago. Amusingly, her daughter wouldn’t even consider giving the baby anything until she’d talked to me. As if I’m some kind of expert. Har. Yeah, ok, if you count 32 months of bf’ing (total, between 2 kids) as an expert, I probably qualify. In reality, I think she wanted input from a mother who has given birth in recent times.

This brings me to another thing: S (same as above) told me once that I shouldn’t reach too far above my head while pregnant, because the umbilical cord would become wrapped around the baby. Wha? If that were true, my doctor, the one with the medical degree, might have mentioned something about it. He didn’t.

My defense mechanism: nod & smile.

Then completely ignore the well-meant advice.

Insult to injury…

Not only is the new “Child Care Benefit” from our oh-so-great PM taxable, but you actually have to apply for it.

Um…wha?

They already know who the fuck I am, and send me the usual CCTB every month. But I have to apply for this?

Fuckers.

Urgh.

Austin’s friend (K) did something today that made me realize exactly why I just can’t like him 100%. Or his mother, for that matter.

Jack & I went to get Austin from school, and as I was asking Jack to please come with me chasing Jack down, Austin came out of the school on his own. With K. Said hello, no big deal. Then K says, “Oh, um, we need a ride. To tae kwan do. I’ll go get my mom.” (they live right behind the school)

WTF????

First of all, ask. Second of all, don’t fucking assume I’m going to just DO IT. Thirdly, did his mother put him up to asking me??

I told K that we had plans, and I wasn’t available to drive them anywhere. We didn’t have plans, unless you include dropping off two pink-frosted (with sprinkles) cupcakes for my husband and then coming home. However. That is far from being the point.

As we walked away, I asked Austin if he’d promised a ride to K & his mom. Austin said he did not, and I’m fairly sure he was as surprised as I was by K’s demand. Then K yelled out, “What’s your cell phone number? I’ll get my mom to call you.”

Again, WTF!?

I have never given Austin my cell phone number - he knows our home number and my work number, and that’s all he needs right now. Austin yelled out our home number, and we kept walking. I told A that when the time came for him to know the cell number, he was not to share it with anyone.

I do feel sorry for her in some ways, I suppose. She lost her job, doesn’t appear to have her car anymore (it probably fell apart, it was that bad), and seems to be raising her kids by herself. I say “seems” because I’m not sure what the story is, only that K’s dad is in another province. And she was living with the people she called her inlaws until recently. None of this is my problem. Yeah, it sucks that they have to walk to TKD, which is about 2 km from their house. And, if she’d called me to ask for a ride, or met me at the school and asked, maybe I would have done it (highly likely, actually, I can be a nice person). Then again, I did see her at the school a couple of weeks ago, and she said they were walking to TKD, and never asked. Maybe she thought she was hinting. I don’t know.

It’s entirely possible she didn’t put K up to “asking” me anything. He may have just seized an opportunity he thought made sense, being a typical 8 yr old (I realized he’s older than A, they’re in different grades). I can’t help but think that my kid would just never do that. He would try & get the moms together to work it all out, or bring it up to me first. I hope.

I know how I sound. Petty. Judgmental. I’m not. I just get a really weird vibe* off this woman AND her kid, and I’m doing my best to keep my reactions in check.

*Ok. Here’s the deal. When I was away in March, K called up to come over & play with Austin. No big deal, D said fine. K shows up here with his mom & brother (age 5). Again, big whoop de doo. However. She didn’t leave. She hung out downstairs, with the 4 kids. D says she came upstairs 12 times in the 2 hours they were here, always asking him what he was watching, blah blah. He got a weird vibe from all this. Then, the weekend after I got back, K stayed overnight for the first time. D was at the bar in town, having a couple of beers after work (and still recovering from single-dad week, lol) when who should show up but K’s mom. She was a bit clingy with D, and he got the weird vibe again. He called me immediately and asked me to come & get him. I did. So it’s not just me. And Karen agrees - she was getting the vibe as I told her the story on Saturday night. (we will not mention that as my BFF, she is morally & contractually obligated to be in My Corner at almost all times) Har!