Skip to content


Today seemed like as good a day as any to take the fellas to see Santa. Since we’re a southern family, it also made perfect sense to drive to Bass Pro Shop to see their Santa — who poses beside real-live stuffed reindeer. For those of you who did not grow up in the south, I should probably explain that “real-live” is a perfectly acceptable adjective to describe things that are most certainly real, but not necessarily alive. It connotes the impressive nature of the object described. And those giant, dead deer are extremely impressive. Believe me!

Anyhow, I decide to dress up in my new, super-cute, burnt-orange, empire-waisted dress which I rocked with brown leggings, brown knee boots, and a little brown shrug. The piece de resistance was a handmade necklace with a wooden filigree heart pendant. I. Was. Smokin! Sure I got distracted by getting the kids ready, and maybe I was still feeling a little rocky from my viral illness earlier in the week — whatever the reason, I completely forgot to put on makeup, and didn’t realize it until we were arriving at our destination. So there was a small confidence drop while I came to grips with my drop from “Smokin’ hot” to “tepidly cute”. But it’s not like I was the one getting my picture made with Santa anyway. We rallied the troops and made our way inside where, after a few false starts, we finally found the end of the huge Santa Line.

Now nothing makes an interminably long wait better than having an insatiable talker queued up right behind you. Of course he noticed I had multiples, and thus began the long series of mind-numbing questions. How did we feed three at a time? Did we have to use our feet? How long did I carry them? Which one’s the oldest? Etc., etc.

It was bad. But if I’d known how much worse it was going to get, I think I would have turned around and left — even if it meant towing 4 screaming boys behind me.

It turns out “Captain Clueless” married his equal. Mrs. Clueless wanders up, is briefed by Captain Clueless as to our child status, then the female half of this dynamic duo turns to me and says, “So are you hoping for a girl this time?”

Imagine me stunned…gasping for air like a fish out of water…desperately trying to wrap my brain around the verbal assault that has just gone down.

“Umm…no. ‘Cause I’m not PREGNANT!” I snapped. Not really a clever rejoinder, but I had hoped the venom dripping from my fangs would fill in where my words failed.

“Oh,” said Mrs. Clueless. No blush. No stuttered apology. Just a simple ‘oh’, as if gutting a stranger were simply one more mundane task in an equally boring day.

I turned my back on them and tried to rearrange my face. I was successful for a minute or two, but finally I had to excuse myself to the nearby restroom. And what did I do once I got there? I locked myself in a stall and cried.


Me!!!! She who does not shed tears except for Hallmark commercials and funerals. And sometimes that whole funeral thing is even a bit dodgy, as I only have a finite supply and sometimes unwisely use one too many during a chick flick. Finally I pulled it together, and was able to rejoin my family in line. The olive on top of my sh%t sandwich was the fact that Santa had chosen this moment to take a 15 minute break, so I was stuck with Captain Clueless who, despite his wife’s glaring faux pas, continued to try and force conversation. The whole. Entire. Time.

On a good note, the boys’ picture turned out to be completely adorable. And my husband says I look great and not at all pregnant. Of course, he HAS to say that, but it was appreciated nonetheless. Why was Mrs. Captain Clueless able to get to me when pestilence and death leaves me unmoved? I chalk it up to hormones and perfect timing. That and the fact that I desperately need to lose 15 pounds and I know it. I know it!!! See lady?!?! I’m aware!!! So keep your comments to yourself!

Posted in Rants & Raves.

8 Responses

Stay in touch with the conversation, subscribe to the RSS feed for comments on this post.

  1. Robin says

    I will find her and kill her.

  2. lona Courington says

    Oh, get this. I went with Darby to get his driver permit and the lady testing him asked if his grandmother would like to come in with him.

    OH and then I went to vote and the woman asked me what name I was going by “since I’d had so many down through the years.”
    I know that doesn’t really help but at least we know it’s them and not us!!!!

  3. Natalie says

    I’m with Robin…right after I find goldfish lady.

  4. jodi says

    Mwah! I love my peeps!

  5. Barbara says

    Oh, fer the luva god. I know I’ve been in the grocery store with them and I don’t have triplets cuter’n puppies. Just chalk it up to the fact that their parents were probably first cousins or maybe siblings.

  6. bells says

    see now the other really insulting thing here is the idea that your boys are not enough for you. That you won’t be complete until you have girls too. To say that in earshot of the boys is just horrid.

    Do we get to see the santa pic?

  7. jodi says

    Thanks Bells! As soon as I get it scanned in, I’ll be sure to add it. You would think I had some kind of picture phobia!

  8. Amy, your sister says

    You do not look pregnant! Larry says to tell you that you are always smokin’ hot and anybody that says otherwise will have to deal with him. If they make you cry again, he might have to hunt them down and tell them fist to face!

Some HTML is OK

or, reply to this post via trackback.