Friday, May 10, 2013

Meth head mommy

This week I decided that I could no longer wait one stinkin' minute more to meet my friend's new baby (two months old now, practically in college already) and since all our weekends are accounted for from here to 2019 I had to make a day trip down to Maryland to see her tiny little a$$. 

My friend also has a four-year-old so the play date was a no-brainer...


We also managed to swing by my old place of employment and audition for the University of Maryland School of Music a few years early... [so that's done, which is nice]


And overall the day trip went rather smoothly. 

UNTIL...

We had to go potty. 
On the drive home. 
In the rain. 
With traffic.
On approach to the Fort McHenry Tunnel...

And mommy panicked and got off on...I don't know where. 

Well... at least there is a Chik-Fil-A! Maybe some chicken nuggets will get us through the next two three hours of traffic home...

As we entered the restroom I quickly realized there were only two stalls: one tiny one, and thankfully, one large, unoccupied, handicapped stall. Since we were all three headed in there, the handicapped stall would do just nicely. 

After the first of our potty party did her business, we heard something. 

The woman next to us in the stall was talking.
But not to us. 
To a friend. Nothing pressing, just... chatting...in the Chik-Fil-A bathroom...

Hey, if that's your jam...

But then the subject of conversation turned to slurs and slanders and promises of: 
"I'LL GET IT WHEN I GET IT DUMBA$$!!"
I wasn't sure what it was that she was going to get, but I just felt a sudden sensation of 'Alright, children, let's MOVE.'

Various bouts of yelling-slash-chatting at her friend continued in such a fashion that I wasn't quite sure if she was drunk, lazy, homeless and just hanging out, or if this was indeed the way in which she was able to be successful in her [public] potty life.


Of course, this is the opportune time when the second member of our potty party had decided he was going to need to sit and wait for his business to be finished. 

A boy who normally accomplishes this task between turns-at-bat in a three-person-baseball-game.

Oh boy. I motion at the boy to get going and he is not understanding what I am getting at. I start to open my mouth to whisper to him that the main reason I have potty-trained him to hold onto his business is for this exact situation and that we would likely be able to revisit a safer potty within the next 24 hours when

"MA'AM!" 

who said that.

"MA'AM! IS THIS YOUR DAUGHTER IN THE PINK AND BLUE" 

I immediately look at my daughter, who is wearing pink sandals and a blue dress... What... where are the video cameras...I must be on TV...are they making a reality show version of Twilight Zone??

"MA'AM! CAN YOU HEAR ME!?! IS THIS YOUR DAUGHTER IN THE PINK AND BLUE STRIPED DRESS CUZ SHE HAS BEEN SCREAMING HER HEAD OFF IN THE PLAY AREA FOR YOU FOR THE LAST HALF HOUR." 

I hear our neighbor respond, 

"ANGEL?? ANGEL GIT IN HER RAT NOW." She opens the stall door, still sitting on the pot with her pants around her ankles [I know this because both my children needed to get on all fours on this glorious bathroom floor to see what was going on and I bent down and erroneously caught a glimpse as I grabbed my children's arms out of their sockets to lift them up over the stall doors into another time and place] and scurries her little Angel into the *tiny* stall with her.

The woman at the entrance to the restroom, exasperated, throws in a: 

"YOU NEED TO GET YOURSELF TOGETHER, LADY. JEEZUS CHRIST." 


Which prompts our neighbor to start to get even more energized, still on the phone, mind you, and tells her phone buddy all about what kind of "Jesus Christ" she is going to show this other woman...

[I don't know what that means either.]

Our potty party finally comes to a close and the kids start opening the stall door as I'm still buckling my belt and I start to feel the barrier between me and this woman crumbling between us but luckily she has her Angel now roaming the rest of the bathroom while she mostly keeps her door closed, still. on. the. phone...

And as I'm ushering the children out the little Angel looks at me with these big, brown eyes and cutest little curly brown ponytail and asks me, 
"Can I go too?"
I, half speechless and half not wanting to reveal myself to what by now you must realize can only be the aforementioned meth head mommy, just shook my head "no" as sweetly as I could to the girl, not wanting her mom to know I responded to her, but wanting her to know there is kindness in the world! 

And I think all of that happened in the span of 4 minutes.

But then...

I saw her. 

I went to the counter to place our to-go order and could not resist allowing the children to hit the play area while we waited for our food. 

Why?? Because this is fast food and our wait was a total of 20 seconds and I knew this but was just faced with an alternate universe where children aren't honored and/or listened to so I just had to let them run their hands and knees all over this infested play place before we head back into our car to eat our food?!?!


Not to mention that when retrieving my children not five seconds later I would be faced at the door  [how did she get by me so fast??] with her.

Imagine if you will...

Honey Boo Boo all grown up ... 

The bugged-out-eyes and forehead are still as largely disproportionate as they are now...

The blue eyeshadow still applied in a chunky childish rainbow shape, the mascara still falling off her lower lashes in a smudged-up disasterous mess...

The curls - or dreads - who can tell - just lifelessly hanging off the sides of two pigtails, which themselves have been asymmetrically misplaced...

The pink, tattered, inappropriately small t-shirt with illegible writing and belly poking out, and 

dirty. DIRTY jeans that are cut off at the capri-length [cuz that's the length of the moment]

and the sourest look on her face as she yells at her Angel to head back into the play place while: 

" I deal with this lady."

Alrighty then... 

"KIDS! WE HAVE TO GO. NOW!"

is what went out of my mouth in my head. 

"KIDS! MMSPHFFF!"

is what actually came out. 

And we exited the whole place with  a "thank you" to the employees at the counter, which prompted a "my pleasure" as I overheard the two women at the playplace exchange 

"YOUR DAUGHTER WAS..." and
 

"YOU NEEDA MIND YOUR BEESWAX..."


And we were out.

like Honey Boo Boo in the Ultimate Grand Supreme competition. 


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