Yesterday, of course, we had the Moms' Weekly Sit and Bitch at McD's. I'm happy to report that they've ditched the Skanks on Skates toys in favor of the new Bee Movie toys. I'm not sure if I want to see the movie, but at least I don't see these bee toys scarring my daughter's self-esteem. Not unless she has a secret desire to become a bee. Anyway.
Afterwards, I had to go get Shannon some soccer socks, because they had their first (and only) pre-season game yesterday. So I had to go to Sports Authority, buy the socks, and then go to the school and drop them off to her. Why didn't I do this earlier? Because I just found out she needed the socks Wednesday night, around 9:30pm. Kids, gotta love 'em.
So as I'm cruising through Sports Authority, Kylie is constantly saying she wants to go to Basha's, a local grocery chain. She wants to go there because of the Cub House, where she can play while I shop. Except I don't need anything at the grocery store today. Yes, I could sit in their cafe area with a soda and a magazine while she plays (not that I would ever take advantage of their free babysitting when I didn't actually have to, you know... shop), but I didn't have time today. So I'm trying to find these socks, and she's blathering about Basha's, and then Target. Target is right next to Sports Authority, and is a great place to spend mom's horde of extra cash that she picked fresh off the tree, just this morning.
I said no, we have to take the socks over to the jr high and give them to Shannon, then we have to go home and I have to do a few things, then it's time for her to go to Mimi's and me to go to work. She keeps whining, I keep saying no. Lather, rinse, repeat. Then she lets go with the ever-popular:
"I don't like you!"
"Well sweetpea, I'm sorry to hear that, but you know, telling someone that you don't like them isn't really a great way to get them to do anything for you."
She is quiet for a moment, and then:
"Well, I do like you...I just don't like your attitude."
I snorted in my attempt to hold back my laugh. I couldn't help it.
And of course, the socks are too small. Where is that #$%&#$% receipt?