Sunday, October 9, 2011

My son is Kryptonite to Bitches

My three and a half year old son and I went to the grocery store today. While in line at the cash register the woman in front of us was being a cast iron bitch to the cashier. I don't mean she was being rude. She was being systematically and manipulatively cruel. The cashier was a chubby teenage girl who was having an acne outbreak. The customer was a 20 to 30 something woman who kept raving about how SHE had such clear skin people all thought she HAD to be using SOME kind of product. Every time she raved about her own clear skin she glared at the cashier with open disdain.

"People with really BAD skin," *glare at cashier*, "need to wash their faces properly. Some people who take really bad care of their bodies," *Glare at cashier's belly*, "Were never taught how to take care of themselves."

The bitch finished buying her groceries and left. The cashier was on the verge of tears when my son and I came up.

"HI!" my son said to her.

"Hello," she replied.

"I got a cookie in the car!" he announced. "It has a skull on it for, er, Daddy what hol-i-day is the cookie for?" He sounded out "Holiday", something he's been doing with words he wants to try and spell.

"Halloween" I said. I turned to the cashier, handed her my store discount card and said "Hello."

He continued "And I get to eat the cookie when I get home!" He held his fingers up to his mouth and said "Nom, nom, nom."

The cashier laughed and handed me back my store discount card.

My son laughed back.

It was around this point the bagger, who was clearly a friend of the cashier's, found her voice and started talking about a boy who kept walking past trying to impress them with his swagger.

My son started dancing in the shopping cart. Both women laughed. My son pointed at the cashier and said, "You look like my friend Mary, she has a pretty laugh too."

It was at this point both women were far too interested in the boy's antics to properly ring up and bag up my groceries. The apple cider ended up being rung up and deleted three times. The rebate for bringing my own bags was handed to me in cash instead of being part of the receipt. The ground beef ended up bagged with all the unused cloth bags I'd brought.

I really didn't mind.

As we left my son waved and said "Bye! bye! Have a nice day! Go to the beach!"

The woman who was on the verge of tears when we walked up, was nearly doubled over with laughter by the time we left.

Well done my boy, well done.

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