But sometimes people must think I do.
For someone who loves words, reading them and writing them, I can not speak them.
Yesterday Husband and I went to a large DIY store that was not Lowes or Home Depot. So it had to of been Menard’s (I just want to tag all of those stores).
I’m pushing a cart full of sleeping baby and talkative toddler when a young man who works at the store speaks to me. I love it when people are cordial, kind and considerate. It’s a great way to be.
I was in an awkward position. The baby I spoke of was asleep. But she’s a year and a half old baby so she doesn’t fit in the seat of the cart comfortably. I had my right arm under her head, and my left arm under her legs and was bent over almost in half. Imagine me holding her in my arms, and leaning over to lay her in the cart seat, but staying there because she was comfortable. That’s what kind of Mamo I am. So I’m pushing the cart with my neck.
Toddler sized Irish Pirate Queen is in the cart. Jabbering. There is much to see. Colors. Toys. Colors. Christmas.
The young man is approaching me and says “how’re you doing Ma’am” (not to be confused with the nickname ‘Ma’am’ used by a previous husband).
I slow down and said “I’m thank you, fine you”.
He was actually slowing down in our passing lanes and looking me in the eye. So he did catch the flip flop of words.
I grinned at him and nearly stopped and said “I mean I’m thank you fine you.”
What the hell!
Just to prove to him I was not totally whacked out on whatever drug is available these days I completely stop and though he had slowed down he had kept moving and I turned to look at him which was no easy feat in my current cart pushing, baby holding postition. He had his head turned to me so I said “I’m thank you fine you”.
He turned his head back towards the direction he was going.
I dropped my head on to the bar of the cart and just kept going.
I must have been pressing the cart on my carotid artery or something.