Monday, June 04, 2007

Hear that?

That was the deafening sound of my ego deflating. It was just another casual trip to my local evil empire. Another cart full of items like half ‘n half, bananas, baby wipes, batteries and sandbox sand. You know, the usual. As always, my children slyly coaxed me in the direction of the beguiling land of Beg and Plead - otherwise known as the toy department. Considering the amount of money I surrender weekly to that place, I have no qualms with letting my kids wreck the toy aisles with abandon and unrestrained play. Yep, sometimes I take my kids to wal-mart simply to play with the toys. Ten toppled lego figurines, four upside-down dinosaurs, three thoroughly played-with fire trucks and six strewn hula-hoops later, I halfheartedly began herding my flock away from the merriment. Enter two tanned, muscular guys approximately age 21. As they sauntered past me I felt their four eyeballs traveling down the length of my faux tanned legs and arms. My eyes met all four of theirs and I was greeted with slight nods and animated grins. Feeling somewhat self-conscious, I did a quick scan to make sure nothing on my person was obviously offensive. Fly zipped? Check. Hair still smoothly tied back in a flirty summer ponytail? Check. Dry armpits? Check. I paused for a moment to consider the possibility of two relatively young guys gawking at an average 30-something mother of three. I stood in place, tightly gripping the realization of flirtation as my senses intensified. Then I heard it drifting from somewhere in their direction: a whistle. A clearly discernable reet-reer intended for me. With a slight buzz of humble satisfaction, I watched their toned bodies walk away from the department of children, parents, responsibility and tantrums. I flipped my hair, lifted my shoulders to accentuate the colossal milk pillows and lovingly called to my three adorable children. I positively bounced in my flip-flops as we walked along the aisle. I was too distracted to care that my toddler child was grabbing handfuls of books and hurling them into the cart. I was too inflated with glee at being reunited with my flirt-factor to hear my Boy and Girl arguing over who played a more crucial role in the demise of Obi Wan Kenobi – Boba Fett or Jenga Fett. I was still hot, attractive and whistle-worthy. I was totally a milf. I was almost too bloated with vanity to hear a loud whistle coming directly from the stuffed gorilla display as we walked by. (Insert the sound of tires screeching to an abrupt halt here.) I cautiously backed up and walked past the display again. REET-REER!

Oh. It was the gorillas.

I awkwardly rubbed the nape of my neck and removed a chunk of string cheese from my hair. As I dropped it on the floor, I scraped the dried grape-nut ice cream off my left boob. Funny, I hadn’t noticed it there before.

I looked at my kids.

I looked down at the one-size-too-small skirt I was trying to get away with.

I looked at my shopping cart filled with things I would never have purchased ten years ago.

And then I let out a chuckle of resignation and called my sexy Husband. He could always use a good laugh at my expense.


Blogger mama said...

You're sooo whistle worthy, young lady. A total milf fo'sho. And don't you forget it!

10:25 AM  
Blogger Om.powered said...

Baby, you are totally a milf.

A little string cheese and some grapenut ice cream merely accentuate that fact.


12:36 PM  
Blogger lemony said...

Gorillas are smart, you know.



5:32 PM  
Blogger Ozma said...

Great story.

2:51 PM  
Blogger Jennifer said...

You know, that totally would have made my day. My month. Hell, my YEAR!

And you? Are totally a hot mama!

8:37 PM  
Blogger ©Jac said...


9:56 AM  
Blogger a happier girl said...

I love letting my daughter play in the Wal-mart toy aisle too. I've discovered that other aisles can be entertaining too. My daughter loves trying on heels in the shoe department and wheeling rolling suitcases around in luggage.

6:07 PM  

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