Not Me Monday

The good mother that I am organized a wonderful walk to the park near our house, with another wonderful mother and her two girls. We did not convince our children that before they could play at the park, the Mommies needed a Starbucks. Of course, there is definitely not a brand new, drive-thru Starbucks blocks away from my house. Once at Starbucks, we did not divert our children from also needing (and whining for) expensive drinks by pulling out the "Super-Duper, Special, Surprise Snack!" that every Mommy has in her bag, somewhere. Perfect for occasions such as this. This diversion was of course made of the most wholesome, healthy, organic ingredients. It definitely did not come in the form of a store-bought, Rice Krispie square, with little M&M's sprinkled on top, full of corn syrup, fructose, glucose, and other refined sugars. While unwrapping said "Super-duper, Special, Surprise Snack!" for the child, I was not tempted to and definitely did not take a bite. This did not send the child into complete hysterics which of course did not include the following:

1. Screaming

2. Thrashing around

3. Hyperventilating

4. Reaching into (aka forcing his hand into) MY MOUTH and grabbing that fateful bite of Rice Krispie square.

5. Putting my half chewed, slimy bite of Rice Krispie square into his own mouth.

6. Did I mention screaming?

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Ahhhh Church. That wonderful place we go for an hour and a half (sometimes two!) of free baby-sitting. OOps. I mean.. to learn about God and his love and to pray or something. 

Ahem. 

While sitting in church and not enjoying my child free time, I did not gently nudge the husband to have him put his arm around me. I definitely do not treat Church like a date. He turned and smiled, quickly lifting his arm to place it around my shoulders. He did not miscalculate the space between us, and while lifting his arm he most definitely did not drive his elbow SMACK into my forehead. He did not start apologizing profusely while we tried to stifle our laughter (and my shock from the pain). I was not completely embarrassed when I glanced at the row behind me to find them not laughing, too. Of course, the preacher was definitely not preaching about love and marriage this fateful Sunday. Nope, not at all.

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My son generally does not get mistaken to be a girl. Apparently 'long-ish' hair on any kid means they are a girl. Right. Forgot about those rules. During a regular trip to the grocery store, we did not have some sweet (yet ignorant) little ol'lady pat my SON on the head while not saying "Oh, what a sweet little girl!".

As she turned to walk away, my son definitely did not say loud and proud: "No. I'm a BOY!"