In A Hurry And Then . . . A Lot Of Shouting

17 February 2025

Story #1131

R. Linda:

Not long ago, Tonya and I went to lunch at an Irish restaurant that opened in Peterborough. I have to say, I felt like I was back on the old sod. The interior was much like you'd find back home. The dark panelling, the cosy atmosphere, the huge bar, and the menu! To die for! 

We lingered over after-dinner drinks a wee bit too long and found we would be late when the wee one got off the school bus. Mam had gone out for the day, so he'd be alone. We had promised to pick up milk and eggs for Mam on the way back, so we decided to go to the Dollar General store on our way home. It was usually deserted, so it would be quick to get in and out.

As we were in a hurry, it figured we'd get behind a lumbering box truck on a double-line road. It was going about 35 mph, but as soon as we came to hills, it would slow to about 15 mph. This was painful, considering we were running behind. Finally, the road opened to two lanes, and we could speed on past. 

We debated if we had time to stop at the store and decided to take a chance. As we got to the Dollar General, a car in front of us turned into the side street leading to the parking lot. I drove up to the car's bumper and found it was going two miles an hour, and when in a rush, this was the last thing one wants. We could see the white head of the old lady driver as she laboriously turned the wheel and righted her vehicle. Then she put on her blinker, and you guessed it drove up into the parking lot, us bumper to bumper behind her, no way to pass. 

"Get past her to that spot right in front of the door, Gabe," Tonya said, pointing to the empty spot. 

The old lady turned into the parking space we had spied for ourselves right by the door for quick entry and exit. We pulled six cars away from her, a little further from the store door than we'd have liked.

"I bet we make it out of the car before she does," Tonya said, whipping her purse strap over her shoulder and getting out.

Sure enough, we did. The oldster was still in her car, engine running, as she rumaged through her purse. We were in and away. I went to the back of the store for the milk and eggs. Tonya went to the cookie section to pick out the wee one's fav cookie munchies.  As I neared the checkout, this young thing with a toddler stepped out in front of me and got to the counter first. She had a few things, but as you know, by the counter are candy bars, beef sticks, chewing gum, drinks, etc., and yours truly was stopped dead. Tonya joined me within seconds, and there we stood, listening to the young momma ask her kiddo what kind of candy bar he wanted, if he wanted a pop to go with it, and how about some chips? All this she could have gotten in the aisles, but no, it was counter shopping, and of course, the child didn't know what of anything he wanted, just that he wanted something. 

I was near to going up to the counter and picking up a few candy bars and paying for them so they'd move on, but just as I was about to become a pain in the arse, the kid grabbed a Snickers bar out of the tray and pointed at a cola drink. Bob's your uncle; we were in business, except for the chitchat between momma and the counter clerk. He was flirting, and she was giggling, Tonya was sighing heavily, and I was shuffling me feet, and then it dawned on me, the oldster would probably catch up with us and find we were waiting our turn and take the opportunity to yak at me riding her bumper.

I looked around and didn't see her, so I mentioned it to Ton.

"She's probably still getting out of her car," she said, not believing her own words.

And she was! As we finally exited with our purchases, she was still in the car, getting herself together, and the engine was still running! I tell you.

We made it home just as the school bus pulled up, so we gave our charge a ride to the house. Once inside, the ungrateful child asked where a candy bar and a Coke-A-Cola were. He didn't want cookies. Who's idea was cookies? 

Do you know how listening to a complaining 11-year-old can make one want to crawl into a hole and hide for a few weeks? Do you know how quickly they can make a lovely day turn sour? Well, that's what I had going for me. Complain to his mother? Nah, his dad had the day off, which entitles dear old dad to be the chosen one to gripe at. But I was relieved of that when the eldest got home. Yes, he plays 'dad' to the younger ones, much to their annoyance and their mother's horror. 

Yes, he came in just as the wee one crossed his arms over his chest in a snit position. Having the courage to ask what was the matter, the wee one spilled his chargrine at the feet of the eldest, who, then changed from concerned brother into dear old dad! You haven't lived until you witness this change in O'Hare. He has worked at the Boys and Girls Club since high school and has had years of dad experience. Yes, he has. This may work on charges you don't know or are related to, but well, at home, it has the opposite effect. 

I won't go into the gory details of what happened next, but just be apprised it was a lot of yelling and screaming on the wee one's part with the eldest getting his feathers ruffled at his reasoning, which I be sure he thought was sound, sage advice. Yes, he'd used the word "spoiled," which would trigger the wee one. I knew to leave him on his own to figure it all out and not suggest anything reasonable to him unless I wanted me head handed to me, which would end with him banished to his room by his evil mom and me pouring meself a Jameson in the room furthest away from the angry laddie. If left on his own devices within an hour, he'd be right as rain, but try talking him down, nah. And, there is no stopping me eldest from his beloved role of DAD. It gets loud and long-winded when they go at each other. There is no getting a word in, so I admit to giving them the floor and leaving their mother to sort through. Which she does, being an elementary school teacher; she has all those tricks in the bag. The only problem is that she blames me for starting it. No matter how many times I remind her, she is the one who bought the cookies. Yup.

Gabe

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