Work at Home Success By Jill Hart
Mom Laughs By Cheryl Moeller
Simplifying Motherhood By Trish Berg
Ask A Twin Mommy By Cheryl Lage
Mothering By Heart By Cheri Fuller
Jelly Mom By Lisa Barker
Family Check-up By Sheila Wray Gregoire
Parent to Parent By Jodie Lynn
Moments for Mom By Elisabeth Corcoran
Making the Most of Marriage By Paula Friedrichsen
A Run-in With The Parent Police
By Lisa Barker
So there I was....
In the middle of the bra aisle with the three-year old and one-year old in tow. I’d played it smart. I had both children strapped into a shopping cart of their own. I had them parked out of range of the merchandise.
I knew my size. I deftly hunted for the appropriate color, whisked it into a cart and weaved my way from women’s lingerie to skivvies for the kiddies.
It was looking as if my Underwear Mission would soon be Mission Accomplished, but noooooooooooooooooo.
Somewhere between the trainer slingshots for my ten-year olds and the black dress socks for my oldest boy, I noticed this strange trail of plastic cards. Hmmmmm, that looks just like, MY ATM CARD! MY CREDIT CARD! MY DRIVER’S LICENSE! ACK!!!
Grinning like a happy hamster, my one-year old demonstrated how the contents of my wallet had been strewn along like a plan Hansel and Gretel had hatched, to help Mommy find her way back to the Bra Department, by smoothly tossing the little important slips of paper and money in my purse up in the air like confetti!
Of COURSE I knew my priorities.
I immediately abandoned my kids as I desperately tried to collect all my most important personal and financial tokens. You’d think I was a mad woman on a treasure hunt in the aisles of unmentionables.
Satisfied that I had retrieved all my things before my identity could be stolen, I returned to my children…only to discover a ‘helpful’ fellow shopper standing there to inform me that my one-year old had stood up in his seat.
"Really? There’s a first. He’s never stood before. In fact, we thought we’d have to carry him all his life."
LIKE I CARE! What’s a broken neck compared to stolen identity, maxed out credit cards and a bank account swiftly drained???? I can have another child, but can I ever salvage my credit history?????
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It’s not that I didn’t care, I do. I just love it when a stranger decides to be helpful by being critical. I should never leave my kids alone. I should make sure they sit at all times. I KNOW THAT!
SHE had no idea what I had been up to. It was as if she thought I’d just decided to park my kids in the middle of nowhere and stroll off to browse and have a jolly good time. Like, "Eh, somebody will come along and baby sit for me...."
Well, thanks to her valuable insight, I am now an INFORMED (or is it REFORMED?) mother and my kids will never be neglected or abandoned again when I shop. The world can once again rotate on its axes.
Yeah, right. Where will this woman be when I am trying to change one toddler while the other runs out of the restroom and willy-nilly through the rest of the mall? Oh, I know! She’ll be holding the hand of my runaway with this dour expression as if to say, "Woman, don’t you know that a child can be kidnapped in mere seconds? Why are you just allowing her to run around unsupervised?"
DUHHHHHHHHHHH, I don’t know!
It’s like, do any one of those Parenting Police People ever stop and look at the whole situation? And where are THEIR children anyway? Do they even HAVE children?
You never see a critic with a child in tow. In fact, you never GET criticism from another parent with child in tow. Instead, you get this look, that knowing wink, that nod of solidarity. A parent never assumes that the other parent is incompetent. In fact, some look for ways to help or commiserate.
But Parenting Police People…they are convinced that you should have never had children to begin with. They will shake their heads and cluck their tongues, offer you unsolicited advice about birth control or state the obvious.
"Your child is running through the aisles."
"You mean this isn’t Disneyland?"
"Your child is standing in his seat."
"Amazing! He’s working without a net!"
"Is it naptime?"
"No, they always scream like this."
"You must have your hands full."
"No, I just like to drop gallons of milk on the floor to see how fast it takes the clerk to call out WET SPILL ON AISLE
THREE!"
"Your son has a potty mouth."
"My husband and I think self-expression is $%#&*@ GOOD for them."
"These children are all yours?"
"So THAT explains why they keep following me home!"
Well, we made it to the check out without anybody calling Child Protective Services. At least for now, sarcasm isn’t viewed as parental incompetence.
© Lisa Barker, 2003-
Jelly Mom™ is written by Lisa Barker, author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Martin-Ola Press/Parent To Parent. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit JellyMom.com. Sign up for the free Jelly Mom™ weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT.
Read Lisa's Jelly Mom column at C'Moms