Tuesday, June 12, 2007


When you blog, sometimes having kids means having instant material—just add internet. For example, yesterday I was running late to a birthday party and needed to 1) deposit a check into my account and 2) buy a present. Multi-tasking like a Super Mom I went to the local Fred Meyer with a WaMu branch right inside. Only at these nifty little banks can you push a cart of rowdy children up to the teller.

After filling out the deposit slip and drawing attention while we stood in line (“Zack, please sit on your bum,” “Leah don’t tease, Kaleb,” “Kaleb, stand by the cart,” “Zack, don’t pull Leah’s hair…”), we made it to the nice lady with the cash. The transaction was nearly complete when she said, “Don’t you write a column for the River City Weekly?” just as Kaleb pulled two tampons from my purse and, waving them in the air, asked, “What are these?” His tone implied that I must be keeping a personal stash of candy in my purse because how can something with such a shiny, crinkly wrapper not contain sugary goodies? I growled at my son, smiled at the nice lady with the cash, and pushed my cart of rowdy children from the bank (and past the long line of customers waiting, attentively, behind me).

Up until that moment I’m sure the teller wanted my autograph.


LikeAstaR said...

I so remember being small and being intrigued by the goodies stashed in my mom's purse, under her sink, etc. Oh, the good old days.

Anonymous said...

I actually saw a video on AFV (america's funniest videos) where two little boys find an unused tampon in their backyard and ask there mom if it is a stick of dynamite...that kind of reminds me of your little episode. jen

Gustogirl said...

Anything that made a plastic wrapper sound I thought for sure was candy when I was little. Mother's purse's were just goody bags waiting to be explored. I only ever ventured into my mom's purse, oh but how I wanted to check out and see what the mom sharing the pew with us had in her purse when I would hear that familiar crinkle at church.