Wednesday, March 19, 2008

By the end, you'll thank me for the lack of photographs in this one

so here's me blogging live from South Dakota (you're emerald with envy, right?). I've been on mini-vacation for less than 12 hours and have already had enough experiences to fill at least a couple posts - Like:

• the idiot women in the San Antonio airport who had NO FUCKING IDEA about anything that goes on while getting on a fucking plane. They couldn't understand why they couldn't board at the same time as the First Class passengers, then they couldn't understand why they couldn't walk on the red "First Class" carpet, then they couldn't figure out what the fuck to do with their carry-ons, they they couldn't figure out where their seats were (OMG, it's a fucking PLANE, there's no hidden rooms) - seriously, who doesn't know this stuff by now? There were 3 or 4 of them and they were AT LEAST in their 40s.

• I saw my very first wild prairie dog - it was super cute

and the worst -

• my kid and I are sitting in the Denver airport (my husband had gone off in search of food) and we're just observing the people streaming by, going to planes and coming from planes and all of a sudden, I see a BIG GIANT BOOB coming down the concourse. This is seriously all I saw at first - ENORMOUS MAMMARY the size and shape of a seal pup, flopping around every which way. Then I'm able to focus on the even bigger picture and I see this woman, jog-running down the concourse wearing a peach, spaghetti-strap-ed floor-length gown with a matching jacket-type thing over it. One of the spaghetti straps had slid halfway down her arm and so her milk bag was just out saying hello to the world. How she didn't feel a breeze, or get hit in the face with that thing is beyond me. As she is rushing past, one of the airport people recovers from the shock enough to yell "MISS!!!!" about five times to get her attention. The woman, looking confused as she's stuffing her boob back into her woefully inadequate outfit, tromps over to the employee saying "What?". The poor airport employee was barely able to keep a straight face while telling her "I was just trying to get you to cover... put your... nevermind." I happened to glance over at my kid whose eyes are the size of quarters. He looks at me, obviously waiting for me to impart some pearl of parental wisdom that will make this horrible scene make sense to his 9-year-old mind. "Sorry, Pal," I said. "I got nothin'."

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting