i have no secrets...

true story. if you want to know something about me...ask. i am usually just chomping at the bit to talk about myself. i mean, let's be honest. some people, however, over share. you know the type. instead of saying my tummy hurts, they exclaim in graphic detail how their women's problems really cramp their style. or instead of saying, where is your restroom, they announce what is about to go down once they get behind a stall door. i mean, really, is information always necessary? because in LOTS of situations i'm inclined to say that don't ask don't tell is a fair policy. but some people...
today i set out on a lunchtime adventure with a co-worker. our lunch conversations never lack substance, never lack humor, never lack a certain inappropriate fun factor, but they are typically our conversations. we have mastered the art of telling the whisper joke. we have perfected the art of pointing out "that person" without calling attention to ourselves. we are pros at leaving just enough to the imagination that the innocent bystander (if eavesdropping) would be curious and confused all at the same time. we are southern women and we know how to act.
but back to lunch...today we shared our area with some tourists from the north. we often share lunch with tourists since we live in a tourist town, but this day was extra special. these sweet visitors who are gladly pumping money into our local economy were textbook tourists. they were pale (with the exception of their sunburned necks), they were toting nylon backpacks, they were wearing sandals that would make you squirm, and dear old dad was sporting jorts. yes, they were textbook. but, what came from their mouths was neither anticipated, appropriate, nor quiet. and i loved the nightmare for all it was...awful.
the poor daughter was dressed like a hobo. every item was striped, bright, and too small. a happy as a lark little mis-matched girl. a girl who clearly has some concept of fashion (some tiny concept) but was stifled by her anti-stylish mom. when this little girl took a spot on the bench to wait she could not help but call attention to her mom's poor choice in apparel. "ugh, mom's wearing her spandex again." insert my giggle here. i was loving the honesty...until...mom replied in a loud and rather nasal sounding voice "yes, i am. when i get wet i chafe."
BOOM. what the crap just happened?! how do i not pee my pants with laughter? how do i not jerk my head around to look? how do i not yell "ewww!"? how do i stay calm and collected, and better yet, how will my friend not jump at this opportunity to bust a gut?
like i said before, us southern ladies know how to act...so we convulsed silently and waited for the traveling side show to leave our ear shot. then, we lost it. really? was that real life? did she say "wet" and "chafe" in one sentence? was that really out loud? was her husband not about to die of embarrassment? does she always share so so so very much info with the general public? and for goodness sake where was she going that needed a spandex lining?! (we could only hope dollywood's water ride department) regardless, it seems as if that conversation was neither well placed, well planned, nor well received.
again, as an over talker myself i know the temptation to be a goober. i know it is hard to stop yourself once your mouth is open and words are in progress. i know it is so easy to blurt a response. but i also know it is not always smart...and well, i always want to seem smart :)
so here's to the ladies who talk to loud in public--no we don't care what you ate for lunch or who you ate with, but we'll get over it. here's to the gals who can't keep a secret--secretly, we love all the information you share and would never admit to being closet busy bodies. here's to the females who must have the last word--we know it's a sickness and really you can't help it. and here's to the gals who tell way too much--please know chafing is never an appropriate subject for public places. and, chances are, the details of your child's birth, your recent stomach bug, the surprise romantic weekend, or your recent trip to the lady doctor are also not appropriate topics for the waiting area at your (or someone else's) local cafe.

p.s. jorts are so 1986...please have your husband return them to the decade in which he found them. bless his heart.

you say you are a parent?

just earlier today i encountered one of the single most disturbing fashion concepts ever. now brace yourself...squeaky shoes. yes, that's right, shoes that squeak on purpose. now this sounds far fetched, but i assure you this was a legit shoe. who, you ask, would wear such a shoe? a three year old little girl is the answer you are seeking, and when you hear why i hope that you (like i was) will be appalled.
now, my first thought was "get that sweet little girl some new tennis shoes!" (as it was clear to me that the bubble in the heel of her nike air max was busted) however, when i exclaimed "oh my that's a loud little sneaker?!" i was told, i know they're supposed to be like that. "WHY??!!" i asked. the response, so she doesn't get lost.
now time out here. so she doesn't get lost? because your 3 year old is often on perilous adventures which could render her lost in the woods, or lost at sea, or lost in kroger which would then render you helpless because she was exploring alone without parental supervision???
really, is that the reason? no, not possible.
so after nearly having a mini-stroke in public i felt compelled to step up onto this soapbox:
i am not a parent, most of my friends are not parents, i am rarely with small children, but i am a living breathing human being with common sense and that alone affords me the right to weigh in on this victory of parenting. or rather, this lack of authority possessed my many parents.
when i was little i stayed with my parents in all situations. how did i know to do so?? because, a. i did what i was told and b. if i didn't there would have been consequences (and i was not interested in that at all). i imagine that there would have been a swat on the rear. there would have been a toy taken away. i would have heard the stern voice that my dad used when he was really mad (which tended to be far worse than any punishment he could have dreamed up). the long and short of this story is that i wasn't given the option to roam freely. i wasn't in charge of making the decisions at my house, and i didn't dispute that fact.
now i am not saying that my parents were superior to other parents...they were just superior to the ones who couldn't seem to remember where their children were. and i feel sure that my parents didn't ride the extreme wave of the helicopter parent. rather, they were just "around."
these stinking squeaky shoes irritated the pee out of me not because the kid was running around making more noise than a tickle me elmo, but simply because of what it says about the thought process of many parents. I simply can't understand the extreme lack of parental instinct. people who are intelligent, well-rounded, and travelled are running around with squeaky shoe kid for the simple reason that "watching" her would be too difficult and taxing. this 3 year old has a built in alarm because it would be too time consuming to hold her hand. she has shoes that sound like dog toys because her parents can't trust themselves to remember she exists. she is forced to annoy not only herself, but also everyone around her, so her parents can multi-task. sad.
so i make a plea to parents. please step up and be responsible for your children. please make your kids a high priority. please do not tempt them to run away from you to find greener pastures. and please please please make the decision when you are making a baby (or before) to love them so much that you wouldn't dream of losing them like your high school ring or the mystery dryer sock. this is not much to ask and i assure you it is not hard. you find your car keys and the remote without having to install a beeping tracking device... and last time i checked the kids are much bigger.
so, here's to parents, you have a tough job. here's to the parents who would love a nap but can't because your kid is on the swing set with the neighbor kid. here's to the parents who returned the baby leash they received at the shower because it just looks silly. here's to the parents who sleep with one eye open in case the boogy man shows up in the middle of the night. and here's to the parents who buy their kids plain jane quiet shoes...you may not hear them but you would never forget they are there.