The Yoys: Sitting Ducks
I just started Big E in a gymnastics class at a gym right by our house. There is a homeless shelter nearby, so there are all sorts of creepies loitering around.
With two gymnastic classes under our belt, I can safely say Big E will NOT be competing for the U.S. national team. There are many things he excels at, gymnastics is not on that list.
After class today, I was loading up the Yoys into the Sienna. Big E was arguing with me about going out to lunch. Our usual lunch date was booked and the thought of going out to eat with the two Yoys was not very appealing to me.
I WANT WILLYS!
Ugh, I knew I ate too much of that stuff when I was pregnant with Big E.
WE ARE GOING HOME! GET IN YOUR CAR SEAT SO I CAN BUCKLE YOU IN!
In the midst of our heated discussion, I noticed out of the corner of my eye what I would call a "sketchy" person walking towards us.
I have always maintained that I hate loading the kids in the car because I feel like a sitting duck. Please, come up and take my car, my purse, my kids, anything you want really. See, I'm too busy trying to get two uncooperative children in their car seats.
I keep my eye on Mr. Sketchy as I continue arguing with Big E about Willy's.
WE ARE EATING AT HOME!
GET IN YOUR SEAT NOW!
I'm trying to rush and get everything closed up, but there is no way it is going to happen.
Mr. Sketchy exits the sidewalk and heads into the parking lot. I'm the only one around.
Why does he feel the need to walk on the side of the car I am loading up Little E? He could have stayed on the sidewalk.
My adrenaline is pumping. He keeps looking at me with this weird look. Sh*t. This is it. He is going to do something crazy.
Well I'm not going out like this.
Years ago I was swung on by a homeless man on my way into work on a Saturday during tax season. I just covered my face and then ran. Typical for downtown Atlanta.
Today, I went into protective mother mode. I started full on yelling at Big E. He didn't deserve it and I apologized once we were all safely in the car.
I just wanted Mr. Sketchy to know that I was one crazy b*tch and to keep on walking. We were not interested in what he had to offer.
As he walked closely by me, I picked up the umbrella stroller. If he tried anything, I was going to bash his face in. He kept walking and I watched him as he turned around and looked at me. And again and again and again. He kept turning around and staring at me.
I threw the stroller in the van, jumped in, and locked the doors.
I was shaking from the adrenaline pulsating through my body. But, we were all in one piece.
He looked back one more time as stepped back onto the sidewalk he should have remained on the whole time.
It took every ounce of my willpower not to run him over. He deserved it for acting so creepy.
With two gymnastic classes under our belt, I can safely say Big E will NOT be competing for the U.S. national team. There are many things he excels at, gymnastics is not on that list.
After class today, I was loading up the Yoys into the Sienna. Big E was arguing with me about going out to lunch. Our usual lunch date was booked and the thought of going out to eat with the two Yoys was not very appealing to me.
I WANT WILLYS!
Ugh, I knew I ate too much of that stuff when I was pregnant with Big E.
WE ARE GOING HOME! GET IN YOUR CAR SEAT SO I CAN BUCKLE YOU IN!
In the midst of our heated discussion, I noticed out of the corner of my eye what I would call a "sketchy" person walking towards us.
I have always maintained that I hate loading the kids in the car because I feel like a sitting duck. Please, come up and take my car, my purse, my kids, anything you want really. See, I'm too busy trying to get two uncooperative children in their car seats.
I keep my eye on Mr. Sketchy as I continue arguing with Big E about Willy's.
WE ARE EATING AT HOME!
GET IN YOUR SEAT NOW!
I'm trying to rush and get everything closed up, but there is no way it is going to happen.
Mr. Sketchy exits the sidewalk and heads into the parking lot. I'm the only one around.
Why does he feel the need to walk on the side of the car I am loading up Little E? He could have stayed on the sidewalk.
My adrenaline is pumping. He keeps looking at me with this weird look. Sh*t. This is it. He is going to do something crazy.
Well I'm not going out like this.
Years ago I was swung on by a homeless man on my way into work on a Saturday during tax season. I just covered my face and then ran. Typical for downtown Atlanta.
Today, I went into protective mother mode. I started full on yelling at Big E. He didn't deserve it and I apologized once we were all safely in the car.
I just wanted Mr. Sketchy to know that I was one crazy b*tch and to keep on walking. We were not interested in what he had to offer.
As he walked closely by me, I picked up the umbrella stroller. If he tried anything, I was going to bash his face in. He kept walking and I watched him as he turned around and looked at me. And again and again and again. He kept turning around and staring at me.
I threw the stroller in the van, jumped in, and locked the doors.
I was shaking from the adrenaline pulsating through my body. But, we were all in one piece.
He looked back one more time as stepped back onto the sidewalk he should have remained on the whole time.
It took every ounce of my willpower not to run him over. He deserved it for acting so creepy.
Mrs. Yoy: Giving Michele Bachmann's crazy eyes a run for their money.
Comments
Post a Comment