Today I ventured into the big city to take Ray Ray to the doctor. We arrived a few minutes early as traffic was fairly easy.
As I walked into the waiting room, a mentally challenged boy about 12 glared at me and started yelling to his mother, “Just look at her…just a complete mess…look at her…a mess, I tell ya!”
Uh, yeah.
At this point I think I must have a huge booger hanging out my nose or have toilet paper stuck to my shoe.
But no. I don’t.
He just keeps on and on about me being “a complete mess” and getting louder and louder.
His mother is taking this all in stride. I can’t decide if it’s because she’s mesmerized by the head to toes polka dots she’s wearing or that’s she’s probably taking some good pharmaceuticals.
She just agrees with him….that I am a “complete mess.”
The subject does change for a few minutes when they have a brief argument about where she bought the brats. It seems he was adamant he did not want brats from Kroger and only from Meijer and that if she bought him brats from Kroger there was gonna be hell at home.
This discussion wasn’t as nearly as urgent as the prior of me being a “complete mess.”
So I got paranoid and ask my 11 year old daughter if I looked “funny” which in hindsight is never a good idea.
Her reply, “You always look retarded Mom.”
And this is the reason I carried her in my belly AND gave up alcohol for 9 months?
Finally this young man was called back for his appointment and stood up and said, “Let’s get this shit over with” all the while looking at me and shaking his head.
That’s right people, the fashion police is disguised as a 12 year old mentally challenged boy and a middle age polka dot wearing, pill popping momma.
