I Encounter Two Mythic Beasts

Saturday Jeremiah, his Mum, Olivia, Maxine Jane, Elijah and I went to the most picturesque, lovely and clean swimming area I've ever been to.

Maxine was not at all evil. Olivia was delightful as always. Jeremiah's Mum was fun and energetic. Jeremiah was relaxed. Elijah was having a yucky allergy day, but got into the water without being coaxed or tricked for the first time.

Although I've been swimming since I was a toddler, I've always been somewhat afraid of the water. The same principal fuels my fear of the dark: The Things You Can't See. Even though the water was surprisingly clear and devoid of fish, the two hour River Monsters special I had watched the night before seemed like a bad idea all of the sudden.

The swimming area had a dock on one side with diving boards at the end of the dock and at the far opposite end a boat dock. We walked over to the dock with the diving board to see the fish that gather on the side opposite of the swimmers and low and behold a mega beast was there, awaiting my arrival (I know it's hard to see, but trust me, this sucker was big enough to make me gasp):




Jeremiah and I discussed the behemoth's potential origins for a while and while I was snapping these photos another mythic creature regaled me with the answer:

"Those are some mighty large carp in there, Missy. Pull you right in if it had a mind to."




This second mythic creature was the Man With Swimming Trunks AND Leather Biker Boots and he is carrying a leather jacket and a rather large hunting knife in this photo. Yes.

The sky looks amazing though, doesn't it?

The older they are, the more hilarious the fall

I like getting older. Things have become more sedate, my mind isn't constantly racing (although it is consistently racing), I actually enjoy the lines on my face (but not the persistent fat on my hips and thighs) and the quiet evenings with Jeremiah in front of the t.v.

The thing I don't enjoy is the fact that I all of the sudden have a better memory (shouldn't it be the other way around?). I remember it being this hot last year at the exact same time (too early to go to the pool, school's still in session, too early to set up the air conditioners), when in years past I would just say, "God! Why is it so hot ALREADY!"

I can't 'forget' to take out the trash now that the weather is warmer. Stinky kitchens are a big No-No.

I can't forget which clothes in the kids rooms' are clean or dirty and then throw clean clothes in the dirty baskets just so I don't have to hang them up or put them in drawers.

I can't forget to clean up the pile of graham crackers in the gameroom and just cross my fingers that we won't get an ant infestation.

I can't just forget and move on immediately when someone hurts my feelings.

I can't forget words that have been said to me in anger or frustration and put them in my back pocket to be smooshed over and over again by my arse.

I also can't forget that there's ANOTHER giant spider in the basement, waiting to pounce on me in retribution for the callous abuse of his Brother In Scariness.

Nor can I forget how much of an asshole I am for being so frightened of a freaking insect.

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Elijah has pooped on the potty several times this week and Maxine was is unimpressed, or seems to be. She has a problem with addressing people (other than me) to their faces, instead preferring to talk to them with her head turned or by referring to them in a separate conversation with me.

Instead of "Good Job Elijah!"

She'll speak to the area to his right and say, "He's gone two times now. I'm surprised."

Or else she'll turn towards me and say, "You should give him a high five now."

I've been encouraging her to talk more directly to people in the future, giving her pep talks to soothe any anxiety over having those direct conversations.

"Maxine, let me fill you in on a few facts. You're an amazing person. You're beautiful and smart and you have to give people the opportunity to talk to you. The more people you talk to, the cooler those people get. You have so much coolness in you it would be a crime to not pass it on to more people."

"Mom. You told me not to touch anyone when I go to school. How do I smash kids with my coolness if I can't touch them?"

"Smash kids? What are you talking about?"

"You said I had to smash people with coolness."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I said you're so cool it would be a crime not to pass on your coolness."

... .... Max cocks her head and thinks solemnly. I've somehow upset her... ...

"It would be a crime to smash people too."

True dat.

Customizing Cuteness

I love doing custom orders. I think it's the neatest thing, making something with my own two hands for someone else to enjoy. Something a baby can cuddle with, something little kids can play dress up with, something that one of my blog friends can wrap around them on a chilly bike ride.

My last two custom orders have been especially pleasant, one for Colleen who writes at her blog, Collology. If you're not reading her now, please do so. She's calm, insightful and intelligent. I made a set for her impending arrival in October, she liked it so much she's come back for more.

My latest endeavor at her behest:



This set, or your interpretation of the perfect custom gift for your friend or relative or reticulated falcon neighbor can be ordered by contacting me at my email address, oliverosetree@yahoo.com.

An also super fun order from Tara at Bite The Bed Bugs (who is ultra cute, hilarious and should be your facebook friend). Three kitty cat hats in three different sizes made of the most excellent organic cotton/linen mix. She loved them and wrote this on my book of faces, 'oh the hats arrived! They are fantastic!!! And so soft! You are now my go-to girl for baby/kid gifts'.

The Size 7 Girls is in light grey and raspberry, Size 4 Girls is in light grey and carnation pink and the baby girl hat is in carnation pink and bubblegum pink.



I just realized that I didn't write about Rosey on her 10th birthday, which was this weekend! Shame on me. Boo Hiss.

Here is my oldest child, my darling Rosey on her 10th birthday with her brand new glasses:


And then this photo....cause that's just how I roll:

In Which My Life is Threatened Outright

Have you ever been hated by someone?

I mean really, venomously hated?

I'm not sure that I have before recently. In friendships I usually bail once I sense any drama a-brewing. Which has been tough considering some women and a rather large number of men are vessels filled and overflowing with drama.


I received an email from the girlfriend of a friend of ours yesterday. Our friend is from a neighboring city and had stayed with us for a get-together Saturday night and then a fishing/hiking type excursion Sunday afternoon. (A bunch of glorious outside time AND tons of exercise followed by us ordering take out that night and literally stuffing our faces.) His relationship with aforementioned girlfriend is in shambles, but because of their years together and their joint attempts at recovery from addiction, he feels the need to stay with her, regardless of her disgusting and disturbing behavior.

If you are not used to reading foul language, and if you don't want to be outright offended by someone's abusing me outright, please do not continue reading.

You might question why I chose to post this...and I honestly can't answer you. I felt like embarrassing the living hell out of this crazy bitch, I felt like outing her in a public arena and mainly I wanted to hear some sort of outrage at these words that were actually directed at me. Maybe I'm still in shock.

I edited the name of our town out of the missive and changed it to 'Egypt', cause I can. The original email is in italics, my 'responses' will be in bold italics. I didn't change anything else, although I was shaking with the need to fix her grammar and spelling mistakes. Ugh.

This may or may not be an actual photo of the person in question. I have never met her before.

hey, you, get over here. whats yr fucking problem calling my old man and emailing him and iming him every second you get?

I went through my email accounts and counted how many emails I've actually sent my friend. The number is five and they are all job search related. (I've been helping him look for a job). The number of phone calls is hardly any, if you compare it to how much I talk to Jeremiah, or his mother or my momma. There are four phone calls from three weeks ago and three from the past week. There are a total of 12 text messages.

like i dont know what score is. yr messing with the wrong viking here. you need to leave him the fuck alone coz he had a goal before yr sorry ass came in the picture and yr dumbfuck baby clothes ARE NOT worth 2 turds.

He had a goal before I came along? I adore my friend but watching cartoons, smoking pot and then sitting idly by while his girlfriend gets drunk and makes a complete and total ass of herself doesn't seem very goal oriented, does it?

you want to fuck him so bad, Egypt sucks and yr bored? dont you have like a million billion kids, go take care of him.

I have done more in three seconds of being a mother than you have done for your child his whole entire life.

i am feeling sorry for jeremiah. yr a real cunty one arent you? so like i said, swing from his jock (haha yr gonna get let down...)and go set yrself on fire. YOU CAUSE ALL DISSENT IN MY HOME! so you fucked joey, so what? so yr from egypt, oooooh! another egyptian junkie thief or whorebag backasswards briar!

I have never done any drugs other than smoking pot, maybe a dozen times. I dated my friend's older brother, Joey, when I was a teenager, so I suppose that's the only thing she actually gets right in this whole entire email.

i told dave shisty fucks arent to be trifled with. i dont like you. i really dont like you. thats my mate for over 9 years AND the fathers of my son. if ol jeremiah is daves friend, why dont they communicate. got to be the center of the attraction?everytime you call and call and call (get a fucking hobby!) i try to be polite, but if i ever see you near my home yr getting curbstomped. and prepare for me to come to egypt next time.

When she has answered the phone the two times I have called and she answered she picked up the phone and said "Is this some fucking girl calling my man?????" and then she screamed at the top of her lungs and I hung up. The second time she answered "Whats????" and I said "Hi. Can I speak with David?" and she said "He's at the dentist, don't call here again." and hung up. She's the epitome of polite.

lets see what happens if you get too friendly, ill wartooth yr ass1111how about we switch men? youll find out how mentally unstable he is. and i found it ironic the days dave and i planned so many mysterious things went on so i couldnt in. yunz are smoother than a lexus, you think?i really hate people who beat around the bush. i dont think you know who yr dealing with, but ill school you when i kick yr door down. find out how we do it in dayton....

you better fucking run! and all yr sychopants and wannabe friends. yr summoning ragnarok.

I don't think we were beating around the bush AT ALL when we (meaning me and my wannabe friends and sycophants) told our friend to under NO CIRCUMSTANCES bring his girlfriend with him, do you? And Ragnarok? I'll give you a hint to why I know 'Ragnarok' , more commonly known Gotterdammerung, isn't coming. First of all, I had no idea that it could be summoned. Secondly, it's to be preceded by the winter of all winters, with no springs or summers for many years beforehand. I don't know if you've actually stepped outside in the last few days, but it's 82 degrees and perfectly sunny right now. Looks a lot like Spring turning into Summer.

all of you egyptian rumdums are soooo fucking scared of me, proof of inbreeding....

if you werent on my old mans dick so hard i wouldnt even write this...but circumstances are different here. and shut the fuck up, youd be the same way. yr a scammer, so why wouldnt everyone else be? were going to end up fighting eventually. its inevitable.

You're citing where I was born and raised as an example of inbreeding when you just mentioned GROWING UP IN DAYTON OHIO????

peeacy outtie galaxie 500 sister....syke! you are dead. stick another stupid thought into daves head.let him pursue his fucking career and shag ass out of our lives!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! nobody beats me in my backyard.

the next fight i have with david over you im getting the myers bus and coming to have a cup of hot coffee with me so i can scald you with it.

have that on yr eggs!!!

Coffee on my eggs? Oh...pieces of my burning face on my eggs? That was a threat. I was actually frightened. Not even being sarcastic...although it is my first inclination to be so.

I got the briefest of apologies from my friend on The Book of Faces that night. It actually made me even more upset. I get that kind of email from your girlfriend, sent from your email account and this is the apology I get:

hey, sorry for ailene. please don't hold it against me.... i don't know what happened, i've been asleep all day. sorry

Who needs friends when you have the psychotic girlfriends of friends to keep you company?

Erin Vs. The Angry Guru

Yesterday while Elijah and Maxine were napping and I was working on a custom order, I watched a documentary called The Workshop.

It's essentially about a man who is confused and wants some answers about life, so he attends this 'intense' 10 day workshop where a middle aged man who has positioned himself as a guru yells at everyone that they're all fucked up, but aside from making them all feel worthless, he doesn't really give them any answers. Except that they should all get naked and be open. Which means openly fornicating. With multiple partners.

Watching this made me feel weird. I wasn't turned on, but I didn't stop watching. I'm not into porno but I'm not a chaste person...I'm not offended by seeing random people nude but I'm not entirely comfortable either.

And that's the type of reaction that this guru would pounce on.

With all of their touting of love and acceptance, guru's still wind up seeming pretty angry. Angry and Erin don't match well. I either cry or I will nod my head silently and then cry about it later while in bed, or in the shower.

Something about this guy really pissed me off though. I can just see our conversation...Dick Head Guru and a Much Braver Than Usual Erin:

"Why are you ashamed of something so natural?"

"Did I say I was ashamed?"

"When you take away all of the outer trappings, all you're left with is the person underneath."

"Making someone vulnerable is a trapping in itself, isn't it? A manipulation technique?"

"Only if it's been programmed into your head that being nude and open makes one vulnerable."

"I think part of being a human is finding what you're comfortable with and making the decision on your own."

"How would you know if you're making the decision on your own or if you're already programmed to make the decision that others and society want you to make?"

It's this type of circular logic that would get me in the end. There's no way you can argue with this type of man. I dismissed him and continued to watch mainly out of morbid curiousity.

Until the people in the workshop starting dealing with jealousy, and the guru started to address it as well.

Jealousy is something I deal with everyday. It's probably rooted within me from some sort of low self esteem, I assume. I had never thought of myself as a jealous person, nor had I ever been called that by anyone else until I was with Jeremiah. I became jealous beyond reason. I feel sick just thinking about how much I worry that he will leave me for someone else, that he likes someone (male or female) better than me, that he's lost interest in me because of my domesticity. I would do anything within reason (no nudity or group sex, please) to conquer these absurd emotions I have constantly.

So I listened.

When the guru suggested I watch my partner make love to someone else in front of me, I shut the movie off.

Immediately.

Mad Skillz and Long Conversations

Saturday nights are generally uneventful for me and Jeremiah.

This last Saturday was no exception until I found myself wide awake around the time I would usually be falling asleep.

I went to write some inane nonsense on twitter and saw that Aly was also awake. I enticed her to call me, and was surprised when voila!!!, a strange number was lighting up my cell phone.

"Why are you calling from an 800 number?"

Aly answers in her perfectly excellent southern accent,

"Hon, it's a 805 number, not an 800 number..."

And now I've given away her area code to anyone wanting to stalk her. Or did I?

Then came the marathon phone conversation that lasted a whole four hours, although I'm not sure how that is even possible. Our talk covered a broad range of topics but mostly hit on these points:

1) Sex.
2) Sex.
3) Jeremiah.
4) Our Kids.
5) Confessions (mostly things I said that surprised Aly, and things she told me that would rock the blogging world...but secrets can only be hinted at, right?).
6) Siblings.
7) Sex.
8) Sex.


The whole four hours mostly boiled down to the fact that Aly and I are much more alike than we previously thought. And that we both LOVE to talk. About Sex.




Yesterday I wrote about the first half of our wonderful weekend. Aside from another bike ride the rest of the weekend was generally uneventful, except for the drama that one lunch at a Japanese restaurant created...Enjoy My Masterful Slideshow Video Skills. Mad Skillz Yo.

Weekend Banalities.

This weekend was more eventful then most. We watched movies, took many bike rides, ate sushi, talked on the phone with blog friends for four hours (yes...I talked to Aly on the phone for FOUR HOURS Saturday night. This either indicates that we're best friends for life, or that we were both absolutely bored out of our minds.) and had an all together wonderful and excellent time.

The fun was dampened near the end because we had a lot of shopping to do, including not getting Rosey a trampoline for her birthday. Which I'm sure makes me a huge asshole...but Jeremiah and I decided that the two younger kids were just too young and that all in all it was too dangerous at this time.

We instead got her a DVD player for her bedroom (pink, so cute) DVDs (Goonies and Speed Racer), three summer outfits, a pair of ridiculously cute loafers, a dice game (she plays it on facebook...ha)and a cats cradle kit. I hope she's not too upset about the trampoline.

Regardless, our weekend kicked off Thursday night when we attempted to watch Where the Wild Things Are as a family. Why didn't anyone tell me that this movie SUCKS? It's really neat looking, and I'm sure there's some merit to it....but I ended up watching ten or fifteen minutes before I started getting antsy. Elijah wasn't impressed in the least and spun a web of discontent over Maxine. Within a few minutes they were jumping all over Jeremiah and the two children left watching the movie. They were not amused. So, in essence, Myself, Elijah and Maxine were banned from the gameroom.
Before we were exiled into the vast wilderness I shot these photos:


Elijah's got something crazy going on in his throat! What the heck.

The girls went to their dad's on Friday night and Jeremiah, Elijah and I went on a bike ride. There's a 20 mile bike trail in our area, and we jump on it a few miles in and ride for 3.5 down and 3.5 back. We ride through farmland and there are cows, chickens, geese and at almost sunset, an incredible amount of bugs. In your mouth and eyes. Horrendous. We took these photos that night:




How can one look reflective and serious in a Hermione T-Shirt?

THEN I took the best photo ever in the history of all photos:


Stay tuned for Part 2 of our weekend recap with a breakdown of mine and Aly's marathon conversation and The Sushi/Lollipop Debacle Photo Movie.

The Beast in the Basement

Upstairs there is pandomonium, the girls are getting ready to go to their Dad's house. Elijah is following them around trying to get them to pay attention to him.

Rosey and I are in the basement, getting her soccer clothes out of the dryer. She's talking about something that happened in school, I'm pissed at myself for not washing her soccer clothes the night before.

Approximately a foot to the right of Rose, wriggling out from underneath a pile of clothes, comes a horrible black spider. Just writing those words make me feel tingly (in a bad way).

*Deep Breaths*

Rose jumps and screams. She is not usually afraid of any insects (which is absurdly lucky for me, considering I'm afraid of all of them), but this spider is particularly large and nasty.

She makes her way over to me and we stand side by side, paralyzed by the spider's slow moving progress. I rationalize that it's about to die, and that's why it's moving so slowly...

*Deep Breaths*

...but I'm pretty sure it's just messing with us. Made bold by our screams the spider sits in the middle of the floor and chills for a while.

"Rosey. You're going to have to kill it. I don't have shoes on." I'm whispering and my voice is actually shaking. I'm sure this is not inspiring any confidence in Rosey.

"No way Mom." She shakes her head. "I'll give you one of my shoes."

"ROSEY! I can't move." Now I'm shaking my head.

We look at each other. I'm almost ready to force her to kill the spider under threat of grounding or time out or some other absurdly cruel method of torture. She has a moment of clarity before I can do this.

"MAXINE!!! Max!!! There's a big spider down in the basement! Come here."

Ahhh, yes, Rosey is a genius. Maxine is our resident Spider Slayer (when Jeremiah is not home). Last year she killed a simliarly giant spider that had taken our bathroom hostage. She saved the day that time.

Max cautiously makes her way down the steps and into the basement. Oddly enough, she's in nothing but her underwear and a pair of mittens. I decide to question her about what she was doing another time. She's got a tupperware container in one hand and a paper towel in the other.

That's my girl. Come to save the day, yet again.

But the elation is short lived.

"Oh my. No way. Sorry momma...." and she rapidly flees back up the steps.

Rose and I are on our own, trapped by a mythic beast of epic proportions. She's rattling off the names of poisonous spiders in our area. I'm thinking of pushing her into the spider, my logic being that either her weight would demolish it enough, or that the adrenaline of being pushed into the beast like creature would give her the gumption to smash it.

*Deep Breaths*

"Rose, I'll give you five bucks if you kill it, JUST SMOOSH IT...it will be all done...and we can go upstairs and never come back down here ever again."

"Hmmm.....how about a mini laptop?"

"Are you kidding? You're 9."

"I'll be 10 in little over a month."

"No way. What else?"

"A trampoline?"

"Done."

Rose takes off her shoes, smacks the spider and calmly trots up the step to show Max the smashed carcass.

I gather up the clothes and run up the stairs behind her, left with the curious feeling that I was just played.

So now I need to get a trampoline by the 23rd of May. Any suggestions?

AND DID YOU SEE THE NEW HEADER!?!? I love it. The kids have already picked out which baby birdies represent them.

And I'm not totally happy with the tagline I came up with...but I can change it at any time so...I'll quit my bitching.

Thanks Again to Pink Designz! She tells me she still owes me a background...although I'm not sure what can trump that awesome header!

Happy Momma's Day Jerks!

Sometimes being a Mom Sucks Ass.



Sometimes being a Mom is a joy.



Ass:
I have a lot of work to do today, which I really enjoy doing. What I don't enjoy doing is being interrupted every three seconds by Elijah.

"Maaaa. Bababbababababababaaaaaaaaa." And up I go to get him a sippy cup.

"Maaaaa....pee on potty!" And up I go to take him to the potty.

Ten minutes later I smell stench. He pooped in his diaper (how did I have the foresight to put a diaper on him?). Change his diaper, get him dressed.

Make him a snack, bring his car garage and all of his cars downstairs. Put on a movie. Leave the room. Sit down. Pick up on kitten ear to stitch onto a kitten hat.

"Maaaaaa. Pee on Potty!"

Joy:
This morning when I got Elijah out of his crib he ran into my room and jumped into my bed. I laid down with him and he said,

"I ruv wu Momma."

Ass:
My three oldest daughter's spend every Friday-Monday with their Dad. Yesterday they came over to spend the day with me because they had lots of plans for Mother's Day Sunday (soccer games and birthday parties).
We had a nice time, ate pizza and snacks and I even let them all have ginger ale with dinner.
When it's time to leave, Max cries.

Although I don't like it when she cries, my heart did jump a wee bit.
'She's sad that she has to leave...', I thought to myself.

"Moooooommmmmmmmmaaaaaa....I didn't even get to finish my KLONDIKE BARRRR!"

Joy:
The other day Olivia hugged me and said

"You feel so much skinnier, it's so nice."

Ass:

"You were softer when you were fatter."

Joy:
Rosey and I got to hang out on the couch for a few minutes last night before the younger kids got a hold of me. I even got to push her bangs off of her lovely forehead.

Ass:
Because of all these joyful children I have six loads of laundry to do this Mother's Day.

Joy of All Joys:
I have four healthy, vibrant children.
I had the privilege of feeding them from my own body and caring for them with my own hands.

Happy Mother's Day! Give Yo Momma a kiss, or a hug, or a friendly phone call. If you can not do those things, think of her fondly. I insist.

Ich Bin Ein Gummi Bear *FIST PUMP*

Have you ever been to totlol.com? It's like youtube for kids (just like redtube is for the depraved and lonely ;))...

Regardless, Maxine loves this site and loves this video in particular:



I added the German version because I...wanted to.

Right now Elijah is jumping in front of me with his fists raised in the air, pumping them up and down in a manic fashion, dancing to Ich bin ein Gummi Bear. I'm wondering if this song has some sort of hidden message that only children under 7 can understand. I say 'under 7' because when Max insisted on playing the video over and over again for Rose and Olivia, they were very unimpressed.

"Ich bin ein Gummi Bear...kill your parents now...."

"Dance wildly now children, dance till your feet fall off!"

"Stick random toys into your eye sockets in your sleep and alarm your parents!"


"Make your mommas watch us over and over again. Do it! Now! Be delightfully cute while doing so!"


Since I started writing this post I've watched this video in six different languages. Maybe I"m the one who's been brainwashed.


Stay tuned for my new header done by Pink Designz! Pink was very very patient with me and I'm anxious to debut the result soon. BUT I'm stuck on a tagline for under the title.

I was thinking Blogging is For Dorks

'comedy, crochet and cannibals'

'Beauty, Brains, Blatant Arrogance'

'Smarts, Sex, Puking Kids'

'Bringing Sexy Back...Ha'

'Good Intentions, Disastrous Results'

'Good, Clean Fun...Sort of'

'...but you're welcome here too...'

'Love, Life and Lunacy'

'Mischief, Mayhem and Mockery'

'Please Sanitize Hands Before Reading'

Which ones do you like? Any other ideas? I am stuck on this one. Help me out. Little sentences are fun to write. That one wasn't little.

The Giants of The Diaper Aisle

It's been established here at Blogging is For Dorks that everyone hates me.

No one wants to be my friend.

Waiters hate me.

Random Strangers Despise Me and My Children.

But did you know that I am also offensive to Walmart Trash?

I know what you're thinking, Erin, Dear Dear Erin, why even enter a Walmart to begin with?

This might come as a surprise to some people, but I am Freaking Lazy. We needed diapers, socks and groceries so to Walmart we went.

Open entering the mammoth warehouse I realized that this decision might have been the worst of my entire life. The whole place was crammed with peoples, shopping, talking and some just milling around in a strange zombie like fashion. What are all these souls doing inside a Walmart on an absolutely beautiful Tuesday afternoon? It was so nice outside yesterday it actually pained me to enter the doors of that building, let alone hang out there all day long.

My plans for a quick in and out (that's what she said) were dashed upon the walmart concrete like so many beaten in craniums with spilling brains upon entering the establishment, but I decided to not let it get to me or Max and Elijah.

Back to the baby section we went, actually wading through the masses of people. I felt like I was saying 'Excuse Me' continually as we made our way to the back of the store. Most people moved semi-courteously out of our way and since we were the only people in the area who seemed to have any purpose or plan, I got some strange looks.

Finally we got back to the diaper area. The aisle was filled with a family of large and scantily clad women. By large I mean their proportions matched those of the mammoth shopping complex and by scantily clad I mean each of the four women crammed into the diaper aisle seemed to be in various stages of undress. The oldest of the four (which I discerned from her graying greasy hair) was wearing a neon pink tube top (OF COURSE SHE WAS) and cut off leggings. By cut off I mean either a cat ripped them up or her three year old grandchild used scissors on them. She was discussing why the next oldest supersized beast didn't get her childrens father's 'ass into court for that money' because she owed her 'pappy cash for the trailer court rental'. (Not kidding)

The two other women were younger and obviously along for some sort of moral support. The tallest of the four (and they were all pretty tall) was no less than 6 foot and was actually wearing an orange terry cloth romper. The kind that you put on your two year old after she swims at the pool? The kind I wore in the 80's? Yeah, you know what I'm talking about...be aware that this giant woman was wearing one. Now laugh.

I was instantly and oddly intimidated by my proximity to them.

After it became increasingly obvious that none of them was planning on vacating the premises, I knew I had to somehow squeeze past them. And preferably without touching any of them, or arousing their attentions.

The aisle was too long to park at one end and leave Maxine and Elijah in the cart while I dashed and grabbed. I soon tired of thinking so much about this and also got pretty pissed at myself for being such a chicken.

I just pushed the cart right into their midst and bravely said,

"Excuse Me, I just need to grab some diapers..."

Nobody moved. Like animals, they must have sensed my timidity.

And then the words that will ring in my head for life immortal:

"No, 'Cuse Me, Bitch!" The one who was getting admonished by her mother (?) was looking right at me. I had the urge to flee, not kidding. But somehow, some way, I instead said.

"Ok." and stood my ground, smiling up at The Giants of The Diaper Aisle.

Romper girl and her companion moved to one side. The two oldest followed suit. I pushed the cart and my children through the small space provided by the behemoths and quickly located the Huggies Supreme Size 6's (Elijah better be potty trained soon).

As I begin to flee, I hear behind me:

"I wonder where she got that top? It's real cute."