Brown Hair, Makes Bad Choices

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Lots of times you have to pretend to join
a parade in which you're not really interested
in order to get where you're going. 

~ Christopher Morley
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Today, we took the girls to the 4th of July parade.  After all, that's what good parents do, right?  I had no idea how incredibly ticked off I would get at a seemingly harmless parade.  Although it's always good to remember that while I may not have reached mom of the year, there are loads of women who haven't even joined the race! 

I should have known there'd be trouble.  Parades are a breeding ground for bad parenting.  I won't go into great description but let's just say I should have known we'd have a problem when the family we sat beside let their son have a haircut I would never allow and I got the liberty of seeing down their daughter's shirt ever time she stooped to pick up candy.  Nice!  

It all started when the candy throwing began.  Long story short, but soon Madison found herself fighting this little boy for candy.  And anyone who knows Madison knows she won't fight anyone for anything (well, except maybe her little sister).  She took it at first but I knew it wouldn't be long.  By about the third time he pushed her over to get candy, she lost it, and ran to mommy crying.  Of course I felt bad.  I looked over to his mother to see if she might tell her son to be nice and allow others to have some candy.  Nope!  Guess what she was doing?  That's right...texting.  So, instead I did what any civilized, red blooded mother would do.  I gave her son the dirtiest look I had.  If he was going to fight my daughter for candy, at least he'd have the fear of God put in him that her mother would not be as nice. 

As Maddie cried into my shoulder, I tried telling her it would be OK and the parade had just started so there would be many more chances at candy.  She was so upset and before I could stop myself, I told her that little boy makes bad choices and his mommy makes even worse ones by allowing him to do it.  Yep, I really said that.  I nearly followed it up by pointing out how she was much more interested in her nicely done red, white and blue manicure and pedicure to even begin parenting her own children, nor making sure her daughter's boobies weren't hanging out for the the world to see.  But, I contained myself.  'Cause that's one of those comments you make loud enough for the other person to hear and well, those are just fightin' words.  Trust me, I could have taken her with one thigh. 

While I may not have gotten to mom of the year status yet, it's always good to know I'm at least in the running.  And, no one describes my kids as, "You know her mom, brown hair, makes bad choices." 

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