Public Embarrassment

In about ten years, I'll be able to repay them. But, for now, when I go out in public with the girls, it ends up being me who gets embarrassed. Usually, it's while we're shopping, but really, any public forum will do.

This past weekend, I had to run into to Target really quickly before church, and Jayson wanted to get us some coffee from Starbucks. So, we decided to divide and conquer. He took Charlie, I took Lydia and Audrey. Since time was an issue, I put Lydia in the back of the cart and Audrey in the front, and we took off. One stop was in the feminine products aisle, where I grabbed a box of purple tampons. Shortly thereafter, while booking it down the main aisle of Target, Lydia held them high above her head and asked me what they were. I told her to put them down and I would tell her later. "Highlighters, Mommy? They're highlighters?" Yes, dear. Highlighters.

Target is a frequent hot spot of mine. I enjoy visits at least weekly. One time I walked through the lingerie section and Lydia, who was two at the time, excited pointed to the racks of bras and yelled, "Mommy's boobies! Mommy's boobies!"

As she got older, she become more inquisitive of other people. We once passed a lesbian couple, both of whom were short and sported very masculine looks, including basketball shorts and baseball caps. Lydia very loudly asked me where those boys' mother was and why there were alone in the store.

Lydia also went through a stage of being obsessed with hair length and would see men with long hair and women with short hair and question their choices (I admit -- I questioned their choices too, just not out loud). "Mommy, is that a boy or a girl? A boy? Why is his hair long like a girl's?"

One time around Christmas, I was shopping with Lydia, and she was just over 1.5 years old. We were at Old Navy and she saw some teddy bears and excitedly pointed to them, yelling, "Lydia bear?" I told her no, and we kept shopping. I pushed the stroller in front of me while I bent down to look at a low-hanging rack of clothes. As I was looking, I could hear Lydia quietly talking. I stood up to see another woman, on the other side of the stroller, also bending down to look at the low-hanging rack of clothes. She had one of the bears in her arms along with other stuff she was going to buy. Lydia had spotted the bear and was quietly whispering to the woman, "Lydia bear. Lydia bear. Lydia bear," trying to get the woman to hand it over. The woman was silently holding in laughter, trying to ignore Lydia.

One time at the grocery store, Lydia was 4 and did not want to be shopping. She yelled, for the whole store to hear, "I'm hungry! You don't feed me!" When that didn't get the attention she wanted, she yelled, "Please don't leave me in the car alone!" (Something I have never done.)

Then there was the time last fall, when Lydia and I were grocery shopping and had what I thought was a very cute conversation.

Lydia: Mommy, do you want me to tell you all the bad words?

Me: Oh yeah, tell them to me. L: STUPID Me: Ooooh, that's a bad one!  L: HATE Me: Yup, another bad word, you're right! L: SHIT Me: Oh. Yeah. Let's not say that one again, OK?

I don't think she said that one loud enough for too many people to hear.