Saturday, January 24, 2009

Apparently my pants are on fire

In case y'all didn't know, I am a little on the goofy side. Yes, really. I know. Shocking, huh? Well, I am funny-strange in a lot of ways - one way being, I don't like to correct people. Well, unless it's grammar and then I am all UP in the correcting. (Drives Tater batty; probably why I continue doing it.)

So Thursday I didn't correct someone and then it spiraled out of control. It would appear I inadvertently lied. Shame on me, but dang it if isn't blog fodder.

Now y'all know I babysit my cousin's baby, affectionately known as "Nonner" here on the blog. I love that kid to pieces and he's way more fun than my kids were because I was so busy worrying about parenting them I forgot to enjoy them a lot of the time. But that little, adorable, pudgy, cute baby is the reason I lied. The reason I inadvertently lied.

Wednesday evening a guy came out to look at my old van. He's a friend of a friend of Paul's who thinks my kids hung the moon and that Paul is the patron saint of friends. (Paul's friend thinks that, not the complete and total stranger) (Because that would be weird to like us THAT much that quick, even if we ARE that cool) While he was here so were Tater and Gentleman and all of our kids. While Paul was showing him the van and they were driving it around a little, we were here in the house playing Mario Kart on the Wii and just generally causing a ruckus and having fun until LOST started. I had to print out some pictures of the van for the guy to take to the bank and Abby was helping me. That was really the only interaction the guy had with any of the kids. In fact, I didn't think he paid much attention to them at all, other than to probably think, "My GOSH but they are loud!" which is a thought I have quite frequently myself.

Thursday I got a phone call from the guy asking if I could meet him at the finance place to turn over the title and get my check. I said, "Yeah, sure. I just need to feed the baby and then we'll head in." He said they had an appointment available at 3 if that worked for me. I fed the baby and then we went to town. I have a carseat for Nonner permanently installed in my van, I carry a diaper bag when we go out and he thinks my boobs are potential dinner (even though I have repeatedly told him they are not) and really, that little guy thinks I am freakin' AWESOME. So considering the rapport we have I guess it's only natural that people think I might be his momma.

It used to happen all the time when I babysat hoardes of children and was insane enough to take them out in public - people always assume that if you are in possession of a child, that child is yours. Back then, with a veritable herd of children surrounding me, I was probably whispered about as "that crazy woman over there" or "that woman without the ability to tell her huband no" or other such things because it apparently never occured to people that I might not be a raving lunatic with an overactive uterus and I dunno, that I might be babysitting.

I got to the finance place with Nonner one one hip, a burp rag over my shoulder and the title in hand. The kids get off the bus around 3:35 so I figured it'd take all of 5 minutes to hand over the title and get my check and be home in plenty of time to catch the kids off the bus. Right? Wrong. Instead, the gal they had an appointment with was holed up in her office and had Ellen on the TV. I secretly wondered if she was just pretending to talk on the phone and was really just watching Ellen to avoid the lot of us in the waiting area. Instantly, the guy's wife commented on how cute Nonner was and of course, I just said, "Thanks." I learned long ago that people give you a funny look if you say, "I'll make sure to tell his momma you said so." It's just easier so accept the compliment and go on because those comments are usually made in passing. Passing as in "I thought I'd only be there long enough to drop off the title and take my check."

With Nonner bouncing happily on my lap, grinning at everyone in sight and occasionally grabbing at my boobs it's no wonder they would assume he was mine. Now, I realize I should've corrected the woman after the second time she called me "momma" but I didn't. Still, in my head I was thinking "No harm, no foul. They're strangers. You'll never see them again." It didn't occur to me that I was caught in a downward spiral of lying until the guy said, "Yeah, last night Bob called to see if I was gonna buy the van and he asked me if I saw the kids. I said I saw a whole buncha kids there. He told me you have two girls and a boy, but I never saw this little guy. Boy, he's a cutie! No wonder Bob likes your kids so much." The whole time Nonner is just giving him toothless grins and slobber bubbles and basically winning him over and making a heck of an impression. The guy's wife said, "Well, of course you didn't see this little cutie because I bet he was in bed, right, Momma?" I just grinned and nodded. Because technically..... when the guy was there the night, yeah, I'm pretty sure Nonner was in bed. Okay so it was at his own house, but still....

I just wanted to get the heck out of there. I looked at my watch and politely asked, " you have any idea how much longer this is going to take? I have kids getting off the bus soon..." They both apologized and wondered out loud what the holdup was. Abby has a key to get in the house if by some chance I'm not there, but I wasn't about to tell them that. I just reiterated that I needed to be there when the bus dropped them off. Then the wife asked "How old are your girls?" I said, "12 and 7." Okay, now that wasn't a lie. She exclaimed, "Oh how lucky that this little guy here has sisters that much older than him! I bet they help you out a lot!" I just nodded and looked at my watch again. They do help me out a lot....even if they aren't his sisters....

I really was about to cry because I felt like such a dolt for lying - even if it was inadvertently - to these seemingly nice folks who were buying my van. I was embarrassed that I led them to believe my 2nd cousin was my child. I just wanted to go home. I was sitting there thinking to myself that if I could just avoid further conversation with them I wouldn't have to lie anymore and I would conveniently be in the bathroom when they came to get the van later that night. Maybe I'd even be asleep. Or maybe I could just up and die suddenly from a mysterious case of ebola or something.

FINALLY the gal opened her office door - at 3:25, no less - and invited us all in. Fortunately the wife came to my rescue before I had to say anything. She told the gal that I had kids to get off the bus and could we speed things up a bit? I then felt even worse that I had lied to this incredibly kind woman who was worried about my daughters (not my son, nope, she didn't even know he existed) but man, did I take advantage of the opening. I quickly vomited out some hasty words about school bus and kids and driving 20 minutes and running late and other garbledygook. She nodded and said, "Fine. Can you come by and pick up your check later then?" The wife again took up for me and said, "No, she lives south of town! You don't have her check ready?" I wanted to cry. I asked, "Can't you just send it with him? He's coming out to get the van tonight." She didn't want to do it, but agreed to send it with him but insisted on making the check out to me only. FINE, geesh! I practically flew out the door of that buildling, holding back tears and hysterical laughter.

Ever have those moment that you instantly KNOW you cannot wait to tell someone about? Or blog about it? Because it's so dang funny and embarrassing and stupid and memorable? Yeah. Me, too.

I laughed at and berated myself all the way home. And no, I didn't beat the bus. But let's just fast-forward to when Paul got home from work and I said offhandedly, "Oh yeah, by the way, I kind of sort of uhm....lied to those people and uhm.....theythinkNonnerisourbabyandwouldyoupleasejustgoalongwithitformePLEASE?" He stopped taking off his shoes and said, "WHAT? You told them he was your baby? WHY, Kristin? Why?" I said, "Well, I really didn't tell them he was mine....I just didn't correct them when they wrongly assumed he was. Please just go along with it and really honey, I'm already embarrassed about it enough. Stop laughing."

Imagine how much harder he laughed when the guy drove up at that very moment and there I was, still alive since I hadn't contracted ebola yet AND I didn't even have to pee. Paul was just about shaking, holding back his laughter. The guy came in the door and saw Nonner and I in the floor playing and said, "Well, THERE'S that cutie I saw just awhile ago!" Paul said, "Yeah, he's a pretty cute kid, isn't he? His momma and daddy are awful proud." I shot him a look that probably could've given him ebola, it was so evil. He just snickered as he grabbed his coat and ushered the guy out the door.

Fortunately, my cousin Courtney is a very real and undertanding person and after I explained to her that her cousin/babysitter is truly not a psychotic maniac who has delusions of motherhood and doesn't go around town flaunting her child as my own, she just sat down to visit so that it didn't appear she was kidnapping my child when she loaded him into her car to take him to his real home for the night.

Ah, family.


Unknown said...

LMAO!!! what a day gives a whole new meaning to the term 'baby mama'

Okie Rednecks said...

I love it!!! And I am not neccessarily that much younger than you.... I am an adult now! I know I am still as cute as I was then!! LOL! I got to see Tater and Gentleman and she looks sooo happy! Have a wonderful sleety night!

Anonymous said...

Sounds like a bad sitcom, where you sit on the couch screaming at the TV, "JUST TELL THEM YOU'RE BABYSITTING!!"

Idabel Oklahoma said...

HA! I've done that before. Few days later I saw the people I lied to. When they ask me where my baby was not even thinking I blurted out "Well..the truth is he was like a foster child but I felt like he was my own and I loved him like my own and I felt like he was my baby but they took him back to his bio mother the damn crack whore and it's just to heartbreaking to talk about so could we not ever talk about it again." It worked. They never ask about my baby again.

Anonymous said...

I really enjoy your humor. I'm a native Oklahoman living in Colorado. I saw this video about snuggies and thought of you at your family Christmas exchange.

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