Saturday, November 11, 2017

What (not) to say at Costco

While my oldest three were at work today, I took the six younger kids (Miriam and down) to Costco. Trips to Costco are always fun!




Before I get into that, I need to back up to this morning. Boaz was playing in the front yard, when one of his sisters accidentally slammed his elbow into the concrete planter. It cut his skin, and bruised his elbow. I applied arnica and gave him an ice pack, and he soon forgot all about it. 

But back to Costco. As we were making our way around, we kept running into the same people, because everyone walks around the store in a similar order and speed. There was an older gentleman in the store whose right arm had been amputated at the shoulder. His shirt sleeve was hanging down empty. 

We had passed him several times and I was wondering if the little kids would comment on it, but was thankful that they didn't. Until they did. To be more specific, we had just rounded the corner from where the man was at when Stephen, loudly and in his squeaky voice, blurted out: "Mom, that man's arm broke off!" It was embarrassing, but funny - like he was some sort of Lego minifigure that had lost an arm. Thankfully we were probably out of earshot.

I leaned down to Stephen and quietly explained to him: "His arm did not break off. That's called an amputation. Sometimes, if you get hurt really bad, the doctors have to cut off one of your limbs to save your life. But it's not polite to stare, point, or loudly talk about it."

Boaz had overheard this. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then, with a worried look, declared: "Mom, my arm is feeling MUCH BETTER now!"

The girls and I all broke out laughing. I was crying laughing. I had forgotten all about his hurt elbow from earlier, but he must have gotten worried that it was hurt badly enough to possibly require amputation!!!

Sigh... kids! We were still laughing when the man rounded the corner again. I hope he didn't think we were laughing about him.



We were ourselves on the receiving end of stupid comments, too. 

Do you want to know what the #1 most irritating thing is that strangers in public say to me? I mean, I'm used to comments about my family size. It's understandable that my little troupe moving through a store solicits comments. I don't mind them. Usually they make me smile - except this one:

"You sure have your hands full!" Ugh - it's rude and lame!

But - it can be topped! Yes! Are you ready?

"You sure have your hands full today!"

Newsflash: either these are my kids, in which case they are my kids every day and I always 'have my hands full'. Or, I stopped by rent-a-kid on the way to Costco because it's so much fun bringing a half dozen kids that are not mine to Costco on a Saturday that also happens to be Veteran's Day. Fat chance, right? 

No, actually, my hands were NOT fuller than anyone else's. The two youngest were sitting up in the cart nicely and silently, the next two were holding on to the sides of the cart and walking along peacefully, and the two oldest girls were walking close by. The kids are not always angelic at the store, but they always are when people make this stupid comment. Because making snide remarks as a mom dealing with a toddler on meltdown is not ok by anyone's standards. 

Every single other person in Costco was also using both their hands to push the ginormous carts. Except for the gentleman with the amputated arm, but his hand was just as full as everyone's two hands. So by any standard, my hands were no fuller than anyone else's. It's an insult to the kids - like they are nuisance by default, even when they are silently trudging through the store.

My most polite response to this incredibly dull, redundant, and insulting comment is to look the person in the eye with a straight face, glare at them for a second, and walk by without otherwise responding. If they say it with any amount of snark in their voice, I smile really big and sweetly retort, "Oh, I have never heard that before!" 

Today called for the latter. The woman who said it was working at a vendor display for an indoor sky diving place. As part of that, she was wearing a ridiculously unflattering full-body suit. She looked at me with pity, when she looked much more pitiful. So yes, she got the the smiling "Oh you are so clever!" response. 

Imagine if I started confronting people in public about the lack of children with them. "Your hands sure are empty today!"



Ah, fun times! We ended on a high note when the cashier commented on how well behaved the kids were being. She asked me how many I had. I patted my belly and said, "This is number 10." "Ten babies! Holy cow! You have a ways to go, my grandma had 17." I told her I didn't know if I had it in me to have that many. 

Then she said the nicest thing to say to a mom of many, in case you are taking notes by now: "You look great!" Which is worlds nicer than the much more common, "You look great for having nine kids!"  That caveat sounds a bit too much like: You look like a hot mess, but all things considered, I guess you look ok." I know that's not what people mean (or at least I hope so), but the compliment without the caveat is definitely a lot nicer. 

So to recap what we learned at Costco today: If you see a busy mom at the store, don't add insult to injury by making her feel like a hot mess. And don't break down laughing near the disabled.