Half-Birthday

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     Today is my half birthday.  I know — whoopty freaking do, right? Do you think I’ll be throwing a party or eating a cake or opening presents or expecting any special treatment whatsoever?  Hell to the no I won’t, because it’s a flippin’ HALF birthday!  There’s a reason why people don’t make a big deal about celebrating this very insignificant event.  However, thanks to the idiotic checkout lady at our grocery store, my daughter is now counting down the days until October 19, her half birthday.  

     Last week when I took my daughter with me to pick up a few vital items, we just so happened to choose the lane that none other than Miss Mary Motormouth was running.  I absolutely dread going through this woman’s lane because she is the queen of bullshit small talk.  I know she’s just trying to be friendly, and maybe she really does like her job, but I’ve got no time for friendly these days with my patience being ripped right away by Wrigley’s furry little mouth of razor-sharp teeth.  I’m pretty sure my face is like a flashing neon sign that says, “Don’t f@*k with me.” However, she was apparently oblivious to my scorned, worn-out facial expressions cause she immediately started in with her talk of the weather and all things stupid.  And when she noticed that I had my daughter with me, she turned up the charm factor to full speed.  

     She wanted to know how old my daughter was and somehow got on to the subject of birthdays.  She then began a whole rambling monologue about the fact that my daughter had a big half birthday coming up.  I kept trying to give her the old enlarged eyeballs/shut your damn piehole look, which, unfortunately, went straight over her completely clueless head.  She went on and on and on about how my daughter would be getting half a present, half a cake, half a birthday song, half a birthday crown, and on and freaking on.  I seriously considered opening the wine I was buying and shoving the cork in her mouth to shut her up.  She told my daughter to be sure to remind her mommy about this occasion and even sealed the promise with a high five.  I wanted to strangle this woman and claw her eyes out with every fiber of my being.  My daughter was so pumped up about the whole idea that she’s talked about it ever since.

     I hope and pray that the child doesn’t honestly expect a big to do blow-out cause it just ain’t gonna happen.  I have about as much desire to plan a party right now as I do to drive a sharp stake through my chest.  I’m actually contemplating dropping my half-birthday girl off in Lane 5 on Monday with Mary Motormouth, so she can celebrate her special day with the genius who planted this ridiculousness in her head in the first place.

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15 Responses

  1. Oh holy hell! I would have killed her. WHY do people do this? Isn’t motherhood complicated enough without other people messing with out kids and sticky crazy ideas in their heads?

    I have to laugh at your description though!

    • She obviously doesn’t have kids or has older kids cause no other right-minded mother of small children would start spewing such nonsense. I may have to put gummy bears all over her back yard on Halloween….

  2. I may be just rude, but when I really don’t want to talk to the overly charismatic check-out lady, I actually tell them. That is why I usually go to the self checkout out our grocery store. I really hate the chipper teenage girls they have running the registers. If I had the energy to deal with them, I wouldn’t look like I do half the time. What about food stained teeshirt, jeans, slip on sneakers, and ratty ponytail says, “Please talk to me while I deal with my fussing toddler!”?!?!

    • Ha! Sounds like u are my clone! That’s usually the look I’m sporting as well. And I’d give my left pinkie for self checkout at my grocery store. That’d make things so much easier.

  3. good stuff, girlfriend. another solid and funny post.

  4. by the way, “mary motormouth” was a particularly nice touch!

  5. I fully enjoyed the image of sticking the wine cork in her mouth. I may have to carry a cork around with me to at least threaten that tactic in my day to day business. I think I would have asked her if she had “half a brain” and threatened to kick her “half way” to the moon for not minding her own business.

  6. Mary Motormouth is a meddling bitch who deserves a kick to the head.

  7. Girls, girls, girls … *sigh* why are you torturing yourselves like this? Please don’t tell me you’ve never heard of on-line shopping?? Is Lil’Ole Blighty actually ahead of her great American cousin on this one?

    I sit at my computer with a glass of something next to me and my shopping list on the other side. I take a swig and open the grocery store site. I take another swig and enter my password. I take another swig and then load up my Favourites list. Then take another swig and start selecting my shopping. By about page 3, my glass is empty so I have to go get a refill. Ditto page 7…and to avoid having to get up again, I just bring the bottle back with me.

    By the time I come to the checkout, I’m pleasantly piddled and all I have to do is “Confirm sale”. I don’t have to engage in social chit chat with Mary Motormouth or Tiffany Talkative Teenager at all. I just have to pour myself another glass of wine. I don’t have to worry about the toothpaste one of the kids slurped all over me, or the cats’ hairs I’m sporting cuz I cuddled on of them before I shopped, or even the lil bit of coffee I dribbled on my shirt cuz I overfilled my cappuccino cup. Honestly, I don’t have a care in the world … except maybe remembering to be at home when I’ve booked the delivery slot!!!!

    • Well, you see, that would be nice, if any of the stores around here delivered. But they don’t. So I still have to drag my worn out-toddler chasing-pregnant ass down to the grocery store and talk to said Mary Motormouth or Tiffany Talkative Teenager with said cranky toddler that doesn’t want to be in the cart. But that is only if the self-checkout is closed. God bless the person who invented the self-checkout.

  8. Oh no she di’nt! That would have so ticked me off too.

  9. that must have been where my son found out about his half birthday…he convinced his teacher to celebrate it too!!! i had to buy cookies for him to bring in 9/30. I told him this took place of his real birthday – wtf.

  10. Oh, good lord.

    Now, having said that, we reached a point with my extremely pitiful middle of summer, everyone’s on vacation birthday, of celebrating my half-birthday with friends instead because, otherwise, my parties were a huge bummer (and I’m shy enough that it really broke me when that happened).

  11. Ah, yes but we have 364 UNBirthdays….good thing she did not go there! Never heard of such a thing…half birthday party….

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