More Adventures in Retail

I know I left off with a teaser about Suzie and the Cat Coffin... but I don't feel the time is quite right for that story.  Instead I will share a couple of stories from the past two days at work. 

Yesterday Andrew was sitting in his high chair eating his sandwich when an older gentleman walked in. He made the typical "oh, you're selling babies now?" joke that we hear so often. I said, "yep," and Heidi said, "he's on special." 

The man says, "I'd take him any day... I assume it's a him and not a her," I said that Andrew was in fact a boy, and he says, "I'd take him in an instant, blue eyed beauty." Then as he walked past to get something off a shelf he said, "white skin." 

Heidi and I exchanged a look, like, "did that really just happen?" The guys bought his stuff and left, and I said to Heidi, "Ummm... White skin?" Then I looked out the window to see him get in his car and drive off and I said, "hmmm, I thought he died in a bunker in 1945."

This morning started off very early, I woke up at 5:00 am because Andrew was crying. I went in and got him back in his normal position in bed and tucked him in and he went right back to sleep. I got back into bed and as I was just about to fall asleep again, I sat bolt upright and said aloud, "The scanners have to be plugged directly into the computer, and not run through the USB hub, THAT'S why they aren't working!!" Then I fell asleep again. A few hours later on my way to work, I was driving along listening to a Sesame Street Singalong for Andrew, and went to take a sip of my coffee when the cup slipped and the lid fell off and I spilled coffee all down my front and lap, burning myself pretty well, and making for an uncomfortably wet lap. 

I got to work and handed Andrew off to my sister and went to the bathroom to run my clothes under the hand dryer until they weren't so soggy. Thankfully I had extra jeans and a shirt in there. I changed, and went out ready to start my day of work. It was a fairly crazy busy day, and the day was zooming by, thankfully with working barcode scanners at every till. 

At one point, a customer who has been coming in for the past 15 years came in. He said to me, "you changed your hair." I replied in a pleased tone, "Yes, I did." He says, "There's no such thing as too much blond you know." Realizing he didn't care for my red streaks as much as I do, I said, "I was just ready for something a little different." He says, "I blame it on a lack of adult make supervision." At this point I was sure I must not have heard him correctly, so I asked him what he said, and he repeated it. I said, "oh, well my husband likes it." He says, "I'll have a talk with him." 

I didn't say a word. Instead I just mentally envisioned what that conversation would be like... 

When I got home tonight I warned Matt that a customer wanted to have a talk with him because he shouldn't like the red in my hair. I guess he will need to learn how to control his woman better! Hahahahahaha

Oh Retail... you keep me on my toes!

In our day to day life here at the store, I encounter a whole cornucopia of eccentricities.  In fact, I could probably start a whole different blog just about my work experiences.

We have the customers who call to ask for a price, and then stay on the phone telling me the secrets to a long and happy life, ask about the weather forecast, tell us what's going to happen when the Chinese take over our country... ok, actually  those were all the same person.  We have customers who come in and just hang out, drinking coffee and passing the time.  Some of these are enjoyable, others not so much...

I have a certain customer, let's call her Jane**. (**Names have been changed to protect the kooky) Jane comes in, and she always leaves quite an impression with her fashion choices, her aroma, her rather salty language, and her personal stories she likes to share.

When you have a preemie, you learn just how many other people have preemies too.  You learn their stories, and share yours.  A camaraderie forms between the members of this unfortunate club that you never wanted to join.

When Jane first saw Andrew, she was commenting on how small he was, and I told her that he was born early.  She asked how early, and I went through my usual, "He was born 5 weeks early, but he had stopped growing 9 weeks early, so he was only a 31 week baby in size."  She tells me, "My daughter was a preemie too.  They took her away right after she was born and put her in the special nursery and didn't let me see her.  I think that's why we still don't have as good of a relationship as my other kids."

Then a couple weeks later, Jane was in again.  This time she commented on how small Andrew was.  I told her he had been born early.  She asked how early, I went through the usual routine.  Then she told me how her daughter was born early.  I started thinking, "I think we've been here before, I recognize that tree."

Then she starts telling me, once again, the story of her daughter being born early.  She says, "She was two months early, and only weighed 5 pounds and was only 20" long. She was so small I had to find patterns for doll clothes to make for her.  They didn't have preemie clothes back then."  I was silently pondering this, thinking to myself, "Wow! I know that I, along with a lot of other parents of preemies, would have been thrilled if our child weighed that much!"  Especially at 2 months early, which is what Andrew was size-wise.

She continued with her story, "Yeah, the doctors thought that she had SIDS so they took her away from me and put her in the special nursery."  At this point, I'm afraid I lost track of anything else she might have said as I politely nodded and murmured the occasional "Oh wow!" and "Goodness!"

Now I don't want to be indelicate, but as far as I know, SIDS only has one real identifiable symptom. Usually the one factor that points to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome is, well, death. Being as her daughter is in her 40's, I'm reasonably certain that she did not in fact have SIDS.

Then Jane went on to tell me that she was here to look for rat traps or poison because she never had rats before, but now she does.  She never had them "before they put in that X-Ray station!"  The x-ray station in question is less than half a mile from my store.  It was installed several years ago now to monitor the southbound trains. Jane lives approximately 3-4 miles from the store, so 3.5 - 4.5 miles from the accursed X-Ray station.  I was wondering (to myself of course, I didn't dare ask) did it take the rats all these years to migrate those 4 miles to her house? Or has she been dealing with them all this time, and was just now telling me about it?  Did the radiation make them some sort of super rat that ran those 4 miles and have been plaguing her house?  I was really quite curious, but I didn't dare ask.

Oh Jane... you are definitely part of the spice of life...

Maybe another day I will tell you all the story of Suzie** and the Cat Coffin...

Adventures in Grocery Shopping

Here's a novel idea... why don't people mind their own business??? I know that asking people to use common sense is way too much to ask. But really, couldn't they just use a little courtesy, and know when they should open their mouth, and when not to?  Or when it is ok to touch a total stranger's belongings and when it isn't?

I had a truly horrifying experience at the grocery store one night during my senior year of high school, and then today I had an annoying experience that reminded me of the horrible night almost 20 years ago.

It was a normal evening, nothing out of the ordinary, and I had made a quick trip to the "IMP" the International Market Place as our grocery store was known back then.  I was working on a project, and I needed a magazine for that project, I also picked up a few other things, among them were certain feminine hygiene products.  I got in line behind a man and his daughter who was probably in her early to mid-twenties.  It very soon became apparent that this man was drunk.  Very drunk.  And obnoxious.  Very obnoxious.  As the checker rang up their items, this man turned his attention on my items instead.  The name of the magazine that I was buying was "Virtual Earth," and he says, "What is that garbage you're buying? VIRGINAL Earth???" as he is leaning over and picking up my items off the belt to survey them.  His daughter was asking him to leave me alone.  He ignored her, and then spotted the aforementioned feminine hygiene products, and said, "Why are you buying these? I think that REAL women should just let it run down their legs like God intended!!!"  At this point his daughter was completely mortified, and was almost in tears as she apologized to me and dragged him away.  I had stood silently through this entire encounter, unsure what or how to respond, and paid for my things and took them home.

I have remembered that encounter for almost 20 years now.

Today I made a quick lunch time trip to the grocery store to grab a few things.  I ended up getting more than what I'd gone for, which always happens when you go to the store hungry, and I went up to the counter, and I was getting in line, when I paused to look at something, and another guy got in line in front of me. I started putting my stuff on the belt, and another guy got in line behind me.  I've never seen this guy before in my life.  As the cashier was starting to ring up my stuff, the guy behind me starts picking up my stuff off the belt and counting them out loud, "1…2…3…" I looked questioningly at him and he said, "Just kidding." I said, "There wasn't a sign about a limit in this aisle."  The cashier said, "Yeah, I don't have it turned on right now, you're fine."  I look at the guy again, and what came as no surprise to me, saw that he was buying a 6 pack of beer.

Why do people think that it is ok to pick up someone else's groceries and comment on them?  I don't understand that… Sadly, my uncomfortable or annoying encounters are usually fueled by alcohol.  And sadder still, my mother raised me properly, and I know not to say anything if I don't have anything nice to say.   

Why did I push the first domino?

When we moved into our house, we remodeled the office and upstairs bathroom and created two bathrooms and a closet in the same space. I chose some colors for the bathroom, but was so tired of painting after having done the entire house, so I decided I'd wait a little while before I repainted the master bathroom. 

A little while was almost two years. Memorial Day weekend 2009 I painted the bathroom. I was so proud of myself for accomplishing it. 

However, nearly two years after choosing and mixing the colors, I wasn't as in love with my blue combo as I had been when I first chose it. There were several spots along the ceiling that I had missed the tape completely and got blue all over. I kept meaning to go back and fix it. I never did. 

Two years ago, for my birthday, my friend Kathy said she would help me decorate my bathroom. We talked about it again in the fall, and I chose a color. This time I chose a very bold green. basically the color of Kermit the Frog. I mixed my gallon of paint the day before Thanksgiving in 2011. I took my paint and painting supplies home, and was going to get started in a few days....

Well, Thanksgiving was kind of busy, and then it was the beginning of the Christmas season. Then January came and things were pretty crazy in our household. And I kept thinking that I would paint on my next day off. Then came the end of January and the discovery that I was pregnant. I was determined to not do anything that would endanger our unborn baby, so I decided to wait to paint. 

Finally, this last week I found myself possessed with a certain amount of energy and, well, ok, I was angry. I don't even remember what I was angry about now, but I was fairly pissed and decided to take it out on the bathroom. I started masking everything off and taking down towel bars. 

Once I had begun, I had to continue. Much like a Spanish conquistador would burn the ships after the last man was on land, I knew once I started, there was no going back. I should have started with the ceiling and fixed all my blue screw ups from 4 years ago, but I could have still left the walls blue if I just fixed the ceiling. So instead I started painting the walls green. I also decided to paint the fake oak medicine cabinet a dark brown, and I was going to replace my towel bars, rings, and toilet paper holder with new oil rubbed bronze ones. Then a spark of genius flared in my addled brain... (Ok, I was being cheap) and I decided to spray paint the oak hardware with an oil rubbed bronze spray paint instead. 

I painted the walls, I painted the medicine cabinet, I painted the light fixture, I painted the towel hardware. I fixed the ceiling. 

I stood back and looked at my handiwork. I had decided to only paint the medicine cabinet and light fixture to get rid of some of the oak in there. Then I saw the oak trim on top of the vanity, and the oak vanity cabinet and I thought that maybe I should paint them the same dark brown.  But then when I looked at that, I realized that the vanity cabinet joins right up to the oak trim that runs the entire baseboard of the bathroom, and around the doors, and around the window, and the window sill. And it might look weird if I painted the cabinet and left the trim stained. But I have a hard time painting over stained wood trim. It's one thing to paint the pre-primed mdf trim, it's composite anyway and it is meant to be painted. But to have perfectly good hemlock or oak trim, and cover it with paint? That's just wrong to me. 

So now I'm in a pickle... I'm considering staining the trim darker, or just saying heck with it and living with the oak and calling it good. I lived with a sloppily painted blue bathroom for 4 years, I guess I can make it a few weeks while I decide what to do.

A few weeks ago, I told Matt that I wanted a new kitchen sink for my birthday (in August). He said he'd been thinking about redoing our countertops with the Rustoleum Countertop Transformations. I thought that sounded good, as long as I got my new sink. Then he said that he was thinking about staining the kitchen cabinets darker. 

My kitchen and dining room walls are a dark brownish-red, and if we put in dark countertops, and darker cabinets, then my dark walls would be too much, so I would have to paint the kitchen. If I paint the kitchen, I have to paint the dining room too. And if I go with with a lighter color, I have to make sure it goes with the tv room color because it joins up to it. Or I have to paint the kitchen and dining room the same color as the rest of the downstairs, which seems kind of blah... 

Oy vey!!! Is there such a thing as a home improvement project that DOESN'T snowball into something bigger and more difficult??

Long time, no posts...

I just realized that it has been 5 months since I wrote a blog post.  It's not that there hasn't been anything to write about, but more that there hasn't been the uninterrupted time to do so, and then by the time that I can sit down and start typing, the fully composed blog-post that I had in my head the night before is completely gone.  There have been quite a few of those lately.

Last Sunday was Mother's Day.  It was my first Mother's Day, unless you count the year before when I was pregnant... some people do, some people don't.  I treated myself to a few hours out of the house alone for Mother's Day.  Andrew stayed home with Daddy, and I went and got a pedicure with my mom, and then went and got a few supplies for home and then it was back home where I was hoping to go out to dinner. I was hoping that my husband was feeling well enough to go out, our little carrier monkey had brought down the entire house with his cold... seriously, even Lucie had been sneezing and sleeping more than usual.  Just when I thought that we'd actually make it out the door, I went to change Andrew and realized he was warm, I checked and sure enough he had a fever. So my first Mother's Day evening was spent being a Mommy.  Taking care of my under the weather baby boy, and making dinner.  And I wouldn't have traded it for anything.

I waited for so many years to become a mommy. I started to think it was not meant to happen for me. As a result, I take joy in motherhood.  Not just the Hallmark moments when my son is freshly bathed and smelling sweet, and snuggled up to me nursing contentedly, but all the moments.  Like when I try to take his temperature and he poops on me. Or when he seems to grow 6 more arms and is doing his best to grab every remote control and power cord in the room.  Or when I want desperately to just go to bed and sleep, and he decides that 3:47 am is the PERFECT time to be wide awake and he just had to share that moment with me.  Let's face it, how often do those Hallmark moments really happen?  Especially since in our house bath time only comes around about once a week.  The pooping on me thing happens far more often than the sweet smelling snuggling time happens.

No matter how frustrated I may become, or how fussy he can get, there is not a day that goes by that I don't look at him and thank God for allowing me to be his mommy, for sending that precious baby boy into my life.   Almost every night I fall asleep praying, thanking God for my family.  For bringing my husband safely home that night, for my beautiful son, for our home, for our goofy (and bed-hogging) pup... It really helps my attitude and my outlook on life to remember how richly blessed I am when instead I want to focus on petty little things, and things or people that make me angry, or bug me.  Some days my attitude is so terrible, and then I see Andrew's smile and it puts my whole world right again.