Top 4 Signs You Are a Parent
Sometimes, as a parent, I find myself in
situations that I had never dreamt possible.
Situations that leave me, well, at a loss for words. Shaking my head in disbelief as I walk
away. Or, in some cases, walking
straight to the nearest sink to wash off a bodily fluid that may or may not be
my own.
The top 4 ways to know that you are, indeed, a
parent, are as follows:
#4. Physical Evidence
It does not take a team from CSI to spot a
mother.
In the case of mothers, there is typically a
trail of tell-tale signs that can be viewed with the naked eye. In some cases, they can be seen with the
naked eye from across a football field.
In others, one must be closer. For example, one shopping cart’s length
in the middle of a crowded candy aisle in the grocery store on a Thursday night
around 9:00pm.
For example:
From a football field’s length, you can spot a mother in church. Even if she is fortunate enough to have
resilient skin elasticity, and does not have the classic kangaroo pouch
belly. How, you ask? She rocks.
Unbeknownst to her, she rocks while standing. She rocks while sitting. Ever so slightly, she rocks side to side, as
though rocking a sleeping baby. Just
watch. You’ll see it. Or catch yourself doing it.
Some mothers must be spotted from a closer
proximity. Hit the local grocery store
or pharmacy one evening around 9:00 when the kids should be in bed. You’ll find her there, in one of two
places. The chocolate aisle, or the wine
aisle. Now, sure, there could be other
people there. Say a single woman who had
a rough day at work. But, the mother
will stand out. She will glance at you,
looking to see if you are looking at her with judgment in your eyes. Are you staring
at her? Eyeing her to see if she needs those extra calories in that XL
Hershey’s bar? Are you JUDGING her? Dude, if you are.....WATCH YOUR BACK! She is likely to actually reach in and
eat—your—soul! She has young kids. Preschool or younger. She has spent the day wiping snot, changing
diapers, and peeling tiny fingers out of said diapers and, more than likely,
has washed poop off of those fingers at least once. Hair in a ponytail, sweat pants, and a big
ole F U look on her face by 9pm. She’s
there. Much like observing an animal in the
wild, proceed with caution. Do not
disrupt the area. View from a safe
distance (like, um, the safety of your vehicle with all doors locked).
#3. Verbal Evidence
If you have found words falling out of your
mouth that you never envisioned could even be FORMED within the confines of
your lips, much less make their way OUT....You are a mother.
If you have at least 5 items on a perpetual
list of ‘Things I Never Thought I Would Say’, you are a mother. Need examples? How about, ‘Do not lick that?’ Seriously.
There are, indeed, instances in which it appears that children (mostly
boys, let’s just be honest) actually need to be told not to place their tongue on something. Typically, said warning is about as
successful as trying to keep a cat from licking it’s butt. It may stall the process momentarily, but 8
out of 10 times, the process will need to be repeated.
Another fine example would be, ‘That thing is
not a handle.’ Yes. It’s been said. Mothers across the world know this
phrase. In every language. Again, this is with boys. Or, at least I HOPE that it is restricted to
boys. I’m not sure the source of origin
with this situation, but even the most proper of boys can be guaranteed to have
heard this squeak through the pursed lips of a mother who is attempting the
mastery of the ventriloquist routine while standing in a public setting with a
child who has chosen NOW to be the prime opportunity to go Special Ops and do a
full blown investigation of ‘it.’ If you
do not know what ‘it’ is, you may stop here.
You are not a mother.
In case you are still not sure, I will offer
one final example. If you have ever had
to ask, ‘Who went poop in the toilet and did not flush it?,’ you are either a mother, or need to rethink
your current relationship with sincere and whole-hearted diligence. If you ask this question, with one or more
potential targets in your viewing range, and can keep a straight
face......Well, then you are a pro.
#2. Mental Evidence
A mother multitasks so often throughout her
day that, by evening, the simplest of functions can prove difficult. Signs of this include:
Making errors in a simple mathematical
equation.
Forgetting a load of laundry in the washer for
so long that it has to be turned on again because the clothes begin to wreak like
a dirty dish cloth. In the event of this
process being repeated a second time with the SAME load of laundry....said
mother should just stop and walk away.
Retreat to nearest closet with chocolate bar and have at least 5 minutes
to regroup. It should never take ALL day
to do ONE load of laundry. Ever.
Lapse in judgment also occurs in these
situations. Momentary numbness of the
frontal lobe may contribute to these situations as part of the Fight or Flight instinct. One example would be when a mother may,
against her better judgment, be inclined to pay actual money for matching whoopee cushions for her children. This is a severe reaction, much like an
unexpected histamine release after a hot shower. Both can cause a full-body rash that results
in severe itching and requires a dose of antihistamine. These reactions typically occur in extreme
settings, such as in the heat of a grocery shopping event in which the store is
accepting Triple Coupons. Let the record
show that the $5.98 investment can enthrall the recipients, but limitations
must be set whenever the mother regains consciousness. Which typically occurs about the time that
the grocery purchases are loaded into the vehicle and she climbs, sweat on the back
of her neck and her blood pressure finally regulating from the high of the
bargains, into the driver’s seat. As she
navigates the vehicle into the drive-thru of the local St Louis Bread Company,
and the sound of imposter flatulence can barely be heard with the human ear
over the squeals of delight that soar through the cabin of the vehicle, the
glass actually flexing under the extreme decibel pressure...She realizes the
magnitude of what she has done. This
refers us back to Sign 2, Verbal Evidence.
The point has been reached in which she must
say something she never thought would escape her lips:
‘No farts are to be made at any point during
this transaction. Not when I place the
order at the menu board, nor when I am sitting at the pick up window with my
window down and cash in my hand. If any
farts come from that back seat, I will turn around and take those things back
to the store, get my money back, and buy MYSELF something with the money. Are we clear?’
Sadly, sometimes she forgets the ramifications
of not being thorough in her execution.
For, as she receives the crunchy brown bags containing Organic yogurt
tubes and delectable cheddar broccoli soup, all is right in the world. The only audible sound is made in the form of
yums and oohs and aahhs in eager anticipation of the deliciousness about to
ensue. Until she creeps forward, ever so
slightly, window still down. As she
approaches the pull up trash can, and stretches her arm out to place an empty
water bottle inside, it happens. What
can only be described as machine gun fire faux farts begin to rain down within
the cabin of the vehicle, followed quickly by squeals of delight that make the
plastic grocery bags actually blow in the breeze of the laughter. As she takes a deep breath and looks to her
left, she sees it. An outdoor table of
diners. No more than 5 feet away. Looking in her rear view window, her suspicions
are confirmed. All vehicle windows are
down. Farts are billowing out like smoke
from a forest fire. Referring to the
verbal guidelines set forth just moments before, she realizes she did NOT
indicate that no faux farts could be made once the transaction had been
completed and the drive-thru line had been evacuated. This is completely within their rights as
Whoopee Cushion Owners.
And finally, the number 1 indication that you are a mother????
When you say, ‘Screw It’ and laugh in the
aforementioned situation. Laughing at
the faux gaseous pandemonium that has been set forth from the momentary lapse
in judgment within the confines of a grocery store.
Personally, I blame the store. I mean, come on. Triple Coupons? It’s bound to make anyone crazy. J
