Thursday, 4 October 2012

Swearing at your child... in public

I grab a can from the overstocked shelf at the grocery store and place it in my cart. I head to the dairy section, grab my yogurt... place it in the cart. Through my series of pick item out, place it in cart and repeat routine, Penelope is throwing one of every five items onto the floor. It's not so bad. She's entertained and I get to do squats to help counteract the ass that you only seem to acquire by having a child.

As I do most trips to the bigger grocery store, I head to the clothing section on my way to the cash. I am eyeing an incredibly adorable faux leather jacket in size Lope, only to look back at my child to discover she has learned how to open a package of Soba noodles... and they are everywhere. Broken pieces scatter on the floor, some have landed in tiny baby shoes and one hits the leg of a lady perusing the adorable sleepers for newborns section.

My response? "Jesus Christ Penelope!" Not in a angry tone, but more exasperated, although still laughing, at the fact that she can't seem to sit in the cart and happily play with a frozen burrito. (Help me out here... how do you get your child to endure grocery shopping?) Now, this isn't the first time I've sworn at her, or around her. I've also told P to "f!*%-off". Just once (in public) and it was totally justified as she was punching me in the face. But even the other moms who witnessed that (and pretended like they've never sworn at their kids) didn't look at me like this woman. It was as though she would love nothing more than for me to cross the grocery store parking lot to Canadian Tire, buy a shovel,  and head to a lot to start digging my own grave. Wow. She actually scared me a little. I'm guessing devout Christian?
I understand that everything I say will soon be repeated. I know that both J and I need to curb the cursing. And we`re working on it but sometimes, well, sometimes your baby punches you in the face, and sometimes they dump pasta all over a grocery store floor.  

I give Brownie points to myself for how I handled it. Because not only did I have to clean up after her, while under the glare of a soon to be grandmother, but I didn't respond to the evil eye or even do retail therapy and buy the jacket! 
Talk about restraint. 

I think I'll go have that brownie now.