Too Much Perfection?

I hate drunk people and I hate sober people and I hate all the people today. And I hate short people and I hate tall people and I hate all the people today.

‘Cuz I’m havin a bad day.havin a bad day. Get out of my way. cuz im havin a bad day.

Blue Flannel hit the nail on the head when they wrote that song. It totally described my mood right as I stood in my kitchen and begged God to give me one small break today. Then I sat down to eat rerun pizza and the piping hot cheese promptly slid off the slice and dropped gracelessly onto my bare lap.

It has been a rotten day.

What’s worse, Thursday pretty much tanked, too. I won’t even go into that, though.

I did learn a great lesson today. Never wear a string bikini to a public pool while accompanying a rambunctious toddler. Seriously. Just. Don’t. Do. It.

The wutz was a wild man today. A total and complete hellion. He’s always a bit hyper but today was a whole new level for my little dude. I thought taking him to the public pool this evening would be a wonderful experience. For sure, he’d be so grateful for my kindness and generosity at letting him enjoy the amazing kiddie pools and play with all those children, that certainly he’d be a grateful little angel. Wrong. Oh so wrong.

We arrived and mosied into the locker room to change clothes. He was wiggling with excitement as I tugged up his Winnie the Pooh swim trunks. That was my first mistake. I never should have dressed him before I dressed myself. He was full throttle to the pool, and there I was as naked as the day I was born, trying to catch him and simultaneously keep my dignity intact. Yeah. Right.

Once he was wrangled, I had to forcibly pin him to the bench with my knee, while I teetered on the other foot and attempted to tug on my string bikini. Here you’ll find mistake number two, which I’ve already touched on.

Finally dressed we barreled toward the pool. He was wide-eyed and amazed. Until I tried to guide him into the shallow pool. Apparently I wasn’t notified that it wasn’t water in the pool. It was acid. Or at least that’s how he acted. Full out, shame-your-parent, tugging and clinging to anything and everything you can grab meltdown right there. So, being the loving mother that I am, I cradled him in my arms and proceeded on a straight path into the water until we were both submerged to our shoulders. I can tell you, he appreciated that. Eventually he realized that he could touch the bottom. That gave the oh-so-amused pool patrons about ten minutes sans temper tantrums. But only ten minutes. Because then he saw the slide. Oooooh. A slide! A very very big slide. It really was a pity that he had to be four feet ride that ride. Now that, he most certainly did NOT appreciate. Nosirree. Not one bit.

It was an effort to distract him, but a shiny pink ball that a little girl had was enough to do the trick. “Ball Momma! Momma ball!” Cue next meltdown.

That wrapped it up for me. We were done. I was done. We proceeded, quickly, to the locker room, to repeat the previous changing room experience, only in reverse this time.

I cannot tell you how glad I was to get out of there. And every single person there agreed wholeheartedly.

So yeah… I’m havin’ a bad day.