At the grocery store the other day I saw a guy (let’s call him Clyde) I knew in high school. Well, I was in high school, Clyde was in his third senior year in college (career college student). Clyde had a crush on me, but that was a moot point because there was no way my dad would consider allowing a 24 year old man to date his 17 year old daughter. After I graduated Clyde still harbored a crush and called and wrote me notes from time to time. When I was 21 my firefighter asked me to be his bride and Clyde went away. I hadn’t seen Clyde in years.
So, there I was, minding my own business… hmmm… you may need a visual of what “minding my own business” is:
We were in the produce section, which for us is the scariest bit of the grocery store. Zeke was decked out in full Batman costume, flash dancing to the music in his head, playing air guitar and shouting, “STOP bad guys!!” to all the elderly shoppers trying to navigate their carts around my unpredictable kid (Please see post entitled “Moves Like Jagger” for full understanding). Connor was grabbing every piece of fruit within his surprising reach saying, “Look. Momma. Ball. Catch. Ball. MOMMA!!!” He would then throw the fruit with remarkable strength and accuracy at my face. Amelia was sweetly cooing at the chaos and spitting up all over the place. Just when she spewed half her lunch down my shirt, I heard, “Amber? Is that you?”
I’m standing there, unshowered, wearing clothes I slept in, trying desperately to pretend like I didn’t hear an adult human saying my name. Buuuuuuuut, I didn’t consider Zeke and his blindness to subtlety.
“HEY, MOM THAT MAN KNOWS YOUR REAL NAME!! WHO IS THAT GUY?!?!?”
Well, no pretending now. I look up, and there’s Clyde, as Clyde-like as ever, with his crazy, penetrating eyes and obnoxious, cool guy smirk. “Wow, Amber! Looks like you and the fireman sure have been busy!” He snarks, looking at all the tiny humans clinging to my legs and neck. “Yep.” is the only answer I care to give . “Gosh, I almost didn’t recognize you!! (Why would anyone say that?!?! How is that ok…?) It’s been what, like 7, 8 years…? ”
Clyde’s trip down memory lane was interrupted when Connor threw a peach at his face. I apologized, but in all honesty, I was thinking, “Atta boy!”