Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Bitch Slap

Today I picked up Robin from school mid-morning to take him to his orthodontist appointment.  Uh huh, Robin has braces.  He was an adorable finger sucker, and finally quit the habit when he entered school.  I really should insure those fingers, for the thousands they have cost us, sending our orthodontist and his family to Hawaii at least twice I'm sure.

Robin was waiting for me in the middle school attendance office when I arrived.  As I signed him out, one of the ladies who works in the office sweetly said to me, are you ready for this, here it comes:

"Are you his Grandma?"

Like a cold hard bitch slap.

WHACK.

I felt my gut clench and wind up like Madea's fist, and then everything slowed down, and I was Madea, hurling some of her best comebacks at this clearly demented lady.


Brenda:   If I call the cops, they will be here in ten minutes.
Madea:   Good. Then that give me nine to beat the hell outta you.


Brenda:  I know Tae Kwan Do.
Madea:  And I know whoop your ass.

My wounded could not find a swimsuit just finished cancer treatment ego, took a deep breath then said out loud "That hurt.  That really hurt."  When she realized her awful faux pas, the equivalent of asking a chubby lady "So, when is the baby due?" she started to apologize profusely.  Her coworker tried to hide under the desk she was sitting at.



I didn't even look at her, I couldn't.  I just raised my hand in the universal gesture.


Talk to the hand.
Talk to the hand Lady.



1 comment:

Jill said...

Oh Debbie, I LOVE your sense of humor! And you are so right -- that lady was clearly demented.

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