Wednesday, October 03, 2007

The Death of Chivalry (and Other Adventures)

This morning, despite Genevieve's vicious cold, I took both girls for a stroll downtown. The weather is too amazing to pass up (sunny and 70-something, not a cloud in the sky, blazing orange and yellow trees). On our way to the town square, I stopped at a coffeeshop--not our usual haunt, because they don't take check cards and I was out of cash, but another place--for a drink. Since moving to Northfield, I've cut WAY back on my coffeeshop-drink purchases, but every now and then, especially if you're home all day alone with small children and not sleeping well at night, you need a little store-bought caffeine pick-me-up to get through the day. Unfortunately, the handicapped-accessible automated-door-opener button wasn't working, so I had to wrestle simultaneously with the single door, a wayward preschooler, and a stroller that has seen better days and so doesn't quite steer properly anymore. Not five feet from the door, an apparently able-bodied, solo man sat drinking his coffee with us in plain view and did nothing to assist me as I stumbled my way inside, hands full and kids in tow. Of course, I'm a pro by now at doing the whole stroller plus non-automated-door maneuver, but still. Even worse, on our way out, when I now also had a large iced drink in hand (too tall for the stroller cupholder), the same man watched us again with no offer to hold the door. Nice.

When we got home, before nap, just as I emptied Julia's potty chair into the toilet, Genevieve (whose current mission in life is to position herself as close as she can to the potty chair and/or toilet whenever possible--but especially when one or both are being used--and then try to snake a sneaky hand into the bowl when the opportunity presents itself) dropped a Fisher-Price Little People (Little Person?) into the toilet. Guess who got to fish it out? With her HAND? Because I somehow felt it was best to act quickly rather than, I don't know, run and get a soup ladle or something?

Do I get some kind of employee of the month award for any of this? A bonus? Raise? Day off? Lunch out? Anything?


squab said...

God, people are assholes. I really hate it when someone sees me struggling with the stroller and doesn't offer to help. What is wrong with those people? (Though I will say, most of the time I do get help.)

You deserve a day off with a professional masseuse.

Grandpa Jim said...

I'll come over and take care of the kids for awhile and you can go off to the Target!

donna said...

Okay. Decision made. I'm not eating soup at your house if you're entertaining the idea of using a soup ladle to scoop toys out of the toilet.

Plus, if you had run to get a tool to do the job, you KNOW Genna would have fished it out of the toilet for you.

Me, I use my hand (as much as I hate to). In the end, it's easier. (I'm guessing you don't want to eat at my house now knowing I've stuck my hand in the toilet a couple times... I guess we're even.)

Nonna said...

Ahhh, Motherhood! Now you know for sure that a poop in the hand is worth two in the...well, wherever. Hand sanitizer to the rescue! Seriously, this gramma wishes she lived closer to give you a, well, a hand now and then!! How appropriate that the word verification letters today are bmfea!!

Shan said...

Yeah, it was pretty revolting. Thanks for everyone's moral support. ;) Thank goodness for antibacterial soap. Donna, I promise to never serve you soup from a ladle that's been in my toilet.

Christopher said...

Little People in the toilet? Besides being a great new euphemism, cry me a river, man. I've had to use my hands, among other tools, to handle bathtime poopage. At least Mr/s. Little Person doesn't dissolve when you reach for he.