Saturday, 27 August 2011

Vladimir Does Walmart

This all occurred during one - ONE, trip to Walmart. I'm going to start podcasting my errand runs.

Me (as we walk into Walmart): "Vladimir, you're to behave in here. I mean it; no running, no dancing, BEHAVE. You got that?" Vlad (saluting) "Yes, SIR!"

As we enter the store... Vlad: "Chief, I am A ROBOT. A ROBOT. A ROBOT." Me: "Well robot yourself out of the middle of the walkway, please." Vlad: "I. CAN NOT. I NEED KY JELLY FIRST." Lady passing by: "Did he say KY jelly?" Vlad: "YES. IN THE BOTTLE WITH THE RED CAP."

As we walk through the school supply aisle, we pass a black gentleman with his daughters. Vlad (planting himself in the middle aisle, palm outstretched): "HALT, O DARK NIGHT." Me (closing my eyes, wishing I could quietly disappear): "I am so sorry..." Dude: "It's cool; he'll learn, hey?" Vlad: "SILENCE, HEATHEN." Me: "OH, my god, Vladimir! I am SO SORRY; we are from a really tiny town in the midwest..." Dude: "No worries. Keep fightin' the good fight, little man." Which was about a thousand times more polite than he had to be.

Vlad: "Chief, we're under attack! Save yourself!" (takes off down the crafts aisle). Me: "VLADIMIR, STOP! THIS INSTANT!! GET BACK HERE!" Vlad (turning around, salutes me again): "Yes, my Evil Queen." We continue through the store. Other people start to notice our passage. 

Walking past the underwear aisle, Vladimir yanks a size 48DDD off a rack. "Check me out, I look SEXY!" (prances around with the bra wrapped around him like a cape). Me (in a furious whisper): "Put it back! Put it back!!!" Vlad (holding it aloft for all to see): "This is GINORMOUS. This belongs to the lady with THE BIGGEST BOOBS EVER." Me (no longer whispering): "GODDAMMIT! PUT IT DOWN!" Vlad: "Okay, okay. It's really like a big parachute though. Huge."

Entering the baked goods area... Vlad (making explosive noises as he pretends to shoot imaginary foes): "Take THAT, MEGATRON!" (continues blasting) Me: "Vlad! Stop shooting!" Vladimir: "But I gotta kill all these Decepticons, they are EVERYWHERE!!" A younger couple, probably too young to have kids of their own, start laughing. Me: "Kill them SILENTLY." Vlad: "Well I'm sorry but there's just no way to shoot a bazooka silently."

Spying a tiny old lady looking at the bread selection: "Look, Chief! She looks just like Yoda!"

As I look at the cereal, I realize Vladimir isn't by the cart. I look around just as he hops on the back of a woman's motorized shopping cart. "MOTHER! I GOT A RIDE HOME OKAY?"

Almost to the exit, when Vlad spies a cardboard girl in a football cheerleader's uniform. "Chief, check out her BOOBS. They are GINORMOUS!" Me (grabbing his arm and propelling him out the door): "Stop talking about boobs!" Vlad: "Why?" Me: "'Cause it's rude, Vlad, okay?" Vlad (patting my chest): "Okay. I'll just look then."

I really need a drink.

Monday, 22 August 2011

The Vladisms, Part 5

If you're just now joining The Vlad Chronicles on LBB, see parts onetwothree, and four.  

Me (spying a turtle in our yard): "Hey Big V, go check out what's in the yard!" Vlad: "Oh my lands; it's a SEA TURTLE!!" Me: "Um..." V: "I got to hurry and get out there before he gets away!" Me: "I think you have plenty of time. Now don't touch him; do you remember why we don't touch turtles?" V: "Cause they maybe got SALMONELLA!" Me: "That's my boy!"

Vlad (to Walmart greeter): "Hey, can I get a sticker?" Greeter: "Well sure, little guy, here you go!" V: "Cool! Do you have some suckers?" Greeter: "I sure do, here you go!" V: "Thanks! You got any money?" Me: "Vladimir!" V: "I said 'Thanks'; didn't you hear me?"

Vlad (wandering back into the living room for the umpteenth time): "Chief, I can't lay down and go to bed, 'cause I have a pain, right here, on the part of my head that I lay on." Me: "Lay on your face." V: "But I have a SKELETON injury! And my blood vessels hurt!" Me: "Let me guess. Another episode of Criminal Minds will cure it." V (settling on the couch): "You're gonna make a good doctor, Chief."

Coach to kids: "Okay, just go out there, relax, and have fun!"
Me (ten minutes later, screaming at Vlad): "RELAX!!!! The coach said RELAX; HOW ARE YOU GONNA HAVE FUN IF YOU DON'T GET THE BALL?!? AND RELAX!!!"

Vlad: "Chief, look at the deer! Is it a girl or a boy?" Me: "It's a girl. Boys have big racks on their heads." V: "I thought the girls had the racks?"

Vlad (who's supposed to be in the outfield): "Hey can I just stand right here when she hits the ball?"

Vlad: "Hey, Chief, what do people taste like?" Me: "Um. I'm not sure. I've never eaten one." V: "Do people ever eat people?" Me: "Well, yes, they're called cannibals. Endo-cannibals eat only within their tribes, and exo-cannibals only eat their enemies." V: "But what do they TASTE like?" Me: "I'm not sure, Hannibal. Use a lot of ketchup."

Vlad: "Can you go over the hills really fast? It makes my pants feel funny."

Vlad (struggling to pull on a pair of shorts): "Chief, I'm just growing up way too fast!" Me (looking closer at the shorts): "No you're not. Those are your brother's shorts." Vlad (pausing with one foot and part of his calf wedged into the shorts): "Well DARN IT. I thought I was gonna be a giant or somethin'!"

Vlad (yelling from the living room): "Hey Chief, me and Vincent, we're playin the crazy bird game!" Me (thinking he was on the iPad): "Ok!" *a pause* V: "Hey, we need more pillows for Vincent to land on!"

Vlad (to a rather flamboyant young man wearing a multicolored scarf): "Hey dude, do you like to Taste the Rainbow?" Dude: "Every chance I get, sweetie."

Vlad: "Hey, these trees smell just like an air freshener!"

Vlad: "Let's practice our Scary Faces in case we see vampires or salesmen tomorrow, Chief."

Vlad: "Chief, how very awesome would I be if I just had two giant long pokey fingers on both of my hands and could walk all over the ceiling?" Me: "Um." V: "Very awesome. I know."

Me (putting in The Goonies): "Vlad, you are gonna love this movie. I used to watch it when I was young!" V: "Oh, man, is there at least colors in the movie?"

Lady at Safeway (to Vlad, who was moving items in the aisle out of her way so she could get through): "Well you're certainly a helpful young man!" V: "I am NOT a man. I am a DUDE. And she" (jerking his thumb over his shoulder at me) "is a CHICK." Me: "I *wish* I could say we are from California." :-/

Vlad (to a very well-preserved [Botoxed] lady at the market): "I like your shoes!" Lady: "Well thank you, young man." V: "Actually, I am a DUDE. And hey, did somebody pinch your butt or something?"

Vlad: "Chief, how come Darth Vader went over to the Dark Side?" Me: "Cause they had cookies." Vlad: "Oh. Is what you used to get Daddy to the Dark Side?" Me: "No. I wore something SPARKLY."

Vlad: "Chief, I gotta look at all my clothes and see what I wanna wear for school." (after perusing his shirts and pants): "I don't know; maybe we need to go to the store for some more." Me: "You are truly my son." V: "No. I am not buying purses. Just shoes."

Me: "That is IT, Vladimir. You are OFFICIALLY in trouble." Vlad: "No, wait, can it not be official? That way Daddy won't have to know!"

Sunday, 21 August 2011

Noshing on a bit of crow here...

Suffice it to say, liberal pregnant smoker basher from earlier rather summarily pointed out to me that my views on vaccination (or parents who choose not to) are an imposition on choice as well.  Point taken, my friend. We all have our hypocrisies; I'll own mine as I demand others do it :).

Liberals Can Be Judgmental Assholes Too!

...or, someone was being a dick on Facebook today. Surprise.

I expect certain people to be judgmental asshats.  I expect it more often from certain subtypes, like call-center "customer service" reps, strict sectarian religious zealots, and the extremely conservative right.  Unfortunately, as I was reminded today, this also occasionally includes my fellow atheists and liberals as well.  Here's what happened.

As I scrolled through my news feed, my eye was caught by a dude who'd friended me a while back after some comments I was making on As you likely surmised by my mentioning that he was a (facebook) friend, he's quite liberal.  I've never interacted with him much beyond commenting on one another's links occasionally, but today I saw a rather shitty, close-minded statement from him that drew my attention like a thong-wearing Dick Cheney out for a stroll: "Just got in fight with pregnant woman who was smoking."

Huh. To make sure I was understanding his intent, I wrote "Because she was smoking?"  To which a like-minded twat on his page replied "pregnant and smoking."

Now, I've never smoked - amazing, as my entire family does.  I did a little happy dance when Illinois enacted the non-smoking laws for public places, because I don't like the smell, and yes, second hand smoke does have detrimental effects on others.  Ditto for smoking's effects on unborn children.

However, I've had family, and many friends, try to quit.  I've had pregnant friends who smoked during their pregnancy - and were counseled that while eventually quitting would be best, cutting back would be a better choice while pregnant.  Why? Because quitting smoking IS incredibly stressful, and quitting cold turkey during pregnancy (and any other time) can raise blood pressure (a transient effect normally, but no bueno in pregnancy), fuck with your hormones even more, screw up your metabolism, and cause intestinal issues which lead to cramping (another undesirable effect in pregnancy).

Yes, there are risks to smoking while pregnant.  There are risks to everything while pregnant: you can't drive, eat, stand next to a microwave, use a computer or cell phone, drink coffee, have sex, not have sex, snort cocaine, drink chocolate milk, or work as a stripper while pregnant.  Yet, some people do. And as a nurse, sometimes I want to shake the shit out of people who have modifiable health habits that they can't, or won't, change, even when their health is negatively affected. I battle with that internally a lot.

But who the fuck are you to judge a perfect goddamn stranger on the street, who's doing something that you don't fucking agree with, take her to task, and then say "Oh, but it's about the BAY-BEH!!" Unless you were present for the conception or are the one carrying the child, you need to shut the fuck up.  You don't know what she deals with on a daily basis, you have no clue whether she's trying to quit or not, and you have no goddamn right to point a finger - at anyone.

This is ESPECIALLY hypocritical coming from someone who professes to love personal choice, who supposedly resents intrusion by others on the moral and social decisions a person makes, and who gets all up in arms when the far right-leaning political candidates start stomping on a woman's right to choose.  Guess what?  "Choice" does not cover only what you think it should.  It's an all or nothing deal, and when you start bitching about conservatives impeding your choices and freedoms, you need to remember  that should include everyone - black, white, male, female, legal, illegal, rich, poor, and yep, pregnant women too.  You don't like it? Well I'm sure women all over would love to hear you pontificate on what a woman should and shouldn't do during pregnancy.  Just as soon as you yank your dick off and grow some ovaries.

Sunday, 7 August 2011

I'm Getting Old

Had a bit of an awakening today.  For a change, I had only one V with me (the younger; Big V went with Husband on Guy Errands) so I was looking forward to being able to do a little light shopping/perusing with only one child trying to do headstands and trying on every single pair of shoes they could find.

After wrestling through the aisles at Marshalls, I decided to walk through Kohl's before going to Target for the things that were actually on my list.  Ostensibly I was window shopping for school clothes for Big V, but first, I decided to find a new shirt to wear on my lady date with Cora and Lisa next week.  As soon as I walked in the doors, I turned left to walk through the Junior's department, and came to a dead stop.

There was not one item of clothing in that department suitable for me to wear.  As I flipped through racks of Candies clothing, Yes I'm Single and No I'm Not Interested t shirts, and spaghetti-strap camisoles with the legend "Juicy" across the boobs, my heart sank as I realized that as a thirty-two year old mother of two, I probably did not need a t shirt with a pair of rhinestone eyes cleverly appliqued across the chest.  Ditto for the chocolate satin halter top and the Your Boyfriend Thinks I'm Hot tank top.  Head down, I pushed my seventeen-month old across the store to the Misses department, where I found a sleeveless Vera Wang knit top that covered enough cleavage so my husband would let me out of the house next week.

AND a Sublime t shirt.  I'm not THAT old.