Monday, January 4, 2010

Ten New Rights For Twenty-Ten

Winter break is officially over! Now that Doug is back at the office and the kids are out of the house and enjoying school's nurturing atmosphere, I can finally get back to my hobbies, which alternate between running around and running around maniacally. Since this is Minnesota and, for the next two months, the temperature will rarely crawl above 25 degrees, the running is pretty much limited to errands and kid-related crap. Once it gets nice out, though, I'll get busier and the crazy people will start to surface, pasty-white legs and all. In order to keep these outings as pleasant and stress-free as possible, I have decided that since I'm not making any New Year's resolutions, I needed some new rights.
  1. If I am behind someone that is driving more than ten miles under the speed limit, weaving between lanes, failing to accelerate at a green light, sitting at a stop sign with no intention of proceeding, or basically being a shitty driver, and this person is obviously texting or talking while simultaneously trying to fetch French fries off of the car floor and shove a double cheeseburger into their mouth, I have the right to honk at them no fewer than five times. Gestures are also acceptable as long as there aren't any kids in the car with me.
  2. When another shopper at Target or the grocery store repeatedly gets in my way, and they're talking on the phone, I have the right to say "Excuse me" in a voice louder than necessary, while simultaneously giving them a look that says: "You're an inconsiderate moron. Get off the fucking phone."
  3. I have the right to not have to love all of my neighbors, especially the one that specializes in using loud yard equipment after 9pm.
  4. If, while at the park, someone starts talking to me about potty training, ECFE, moms clubs, sleeping habits, or is bitching about their spouse, I have the right to say: "Those topics bore me. Go away." If, however, the person compliments me on my cute flip-flops, shares details about a little-known happy hour, or wants to rip on the mom who is talking about potty training, I have the right to ask her to move in with me.
  5. If a teenager that doesn't belong to me shows up in my backyard at noon for the 16th day in a row this summer, I have the right to ask him where he's having lunch and say, "Sorry, but we're all out of food."
  6. If someone gives me a backhanded compliment, I have the right to not always accept it gracefully and with a smile.
  7. If a little kid with a giant booger hanging out of his nose asks me for help on the monkey bars while his mom sits her bib-overalled butt on the park bench talking about potty training, I have the right to say: "NO! I'm busy. Go ask your mom."
  8. When some skinny bitch fishes for compliments by saying that she "looks fat" and is "getting lines around her eyes," or asks me, "Does this Brazilian-cut bikini make me look fat?" I have the right to agree with her and answer "Yes, it does."
  9. If unattended kids are throwing fistfuls of rocks at the park, and my daughter is in the direct line of fire, I have the right to yell at someone else's unattended kids and/or throw rocks back.
  10. I have the right to grill more steak, less chicken, and drink more vodka.
Feel free to add to this list of rights, or use some of them for yourself as needed. After all, sharing is fun, even though I always reserve the right to say "No, it's mine!"


The Mean Mom said...

#11. If someone fails to use their blinker, I have the right to point out that fact, using my middle finger.

Anonymous said...

If another mom looks at me with a straight face and proclaims, "My child(ren) never lie!" after I witness the child doing something heinous and their mom chooses to believe the child (who is denying doing something wrong) over an adult eyewitness, I reserve the right to mockingly respond, "I am sure that (s)he is Abraham Lincoln reincarnated, which should be very comforting to you when your little delinquent ends up in juvie." I've decided that this is a better approach than slapping the parent across the face and screaming "For God's sake, wake up and smell the coffee you idiot, you're raising a psycopath!" which doesn't seem to go over real well.