Wieners and Beer at Walgreens

The older C gets, the funnier our conversations and public outings get. And by funnier, I mean slightly horrifying. Sometimes I think it would be best if I become homebound, and just order my groceries online, and maybe start hoarding things. Then I'd probably get my own TLC show, so that's a win win scenario.

But, I'm not a hoarder, and I do occasionally venture out of my house with the kid in tow. One day a bit before Christmas, I had to go to Walgreens. I can't even remember what for, at this point. I already have a Snuggie, so that wasn't it. But it probably was to check out the As Seen on TV section. I still don't have a bumpit. Another holiday season has come and gone, and there was no bumpit or ped egg in my stocking. But I digress.

 

C and I hit up Walgreens. For his entertainment purposes, we ventured down the Christmas aisle. Mostly because I (along with every other Walgreens shopper) wanted to quell the screams of "OHHHH! Chwismas! I see Chwismas! I YOVE IT! I NEED SEE! MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY!" I had C in the back of the cart (because let's face it, Walgreens has miniature carts, and my kid is giant. If I put him in the front, his sheer mass would flip that bitch over in 2 seconds) which I was hoping was close enough to a cage to keep him contained. So, we are looking at miniature trees, snowglobes and all the other overpriced holiday crap when C went absolutely ape shit. "WUDOLPH!! It's Wudolph! I yove him! I need take home! Mommy, yook!" Sure enough, it was a giant, 3 foot stuffed Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Just what every house needs, right? I silently groaned, but grabbed the Reindeer and saw that is was under $15, so I decided to just make the kids day and let him have it. You know, the magic of Christmas, and all that happy horse shit.



So, I hand it over to C, and his little face lit up, and all was well in the world. Until. I hear the glorious words every mother yearns to hear uttered from the sweet mouth of their innocent toddler, while walking the aisles at the local pharmacy. "Yook! Mommy I have a BIIIIIIIG wiener!!!"

 It's no secret that I have a mouth like a sailor. I mean, if you've read this blog for two minutes, you've come across some gems like "bitch-tittied bull shit" or "twat waffle". But I really can't ever recall mentioning big wieners in front of my kid. And he is now proclaiming to every. fucking. person. that we go by that he has a big wiener. And THAT is when I realize that he is saying "reindeer". It's sounds a bit like "way-ner" and awfully close to wiener. By this point, I'm sure that every patron of Walgreens thinks I raise my kid on the set of a porn shoot. I quickly start repeating after him "Yes honey, you have a big REINDEER. Your REINDEER is really big", but I don't think anyone was buying it.

I decided that it was time to finish up, and get the hell out of Walgreens before somebody called the authorities. I needed some cheese, so I headed over to the refrigerated aisle, so I could grab a bag of it at approximately seven times the actual retail value. I couldn't stomach the thought of giant dong talk all through the grocery store, so I was willing to pay the inflated price. As we rounded the corner and the refrigerated goods came into view, C let rip with another little gem. "Oh, beer! I yove beer! Beer is GOOD!" Fuck. My. Life. Now people think I let my kid watch porn while tossing back a cold one. The best part? If you are a loyal blog reader, you know that my kid CAN toss one back! Let's not forget my public service announcement.  I quickly respond with "That's what Pa says, doesn't he? Pa loves beer, Pa thinks beer is good! Beer isn't for little boys though, right?" By this point, I'm sure that somebody has CPS on the phone, and they'll be there momentarily to cart my kid away. It can't be normal for a 3 year old to be talking about giant wieners and love of beer, right?

Hmm. Maybe it can. 

I felt like I was doing the walk of shame up to the counter. I prayed with every fiber of my being that Carson wouldn't bring up giant dicks again, but of course he did. I gave up even trying to explain, and grabbed my bag and got the fuck out of there. And I STILL didn't have a bumpit. Walgreens = epic Mommy fail.