FLIPSIDE: the reverse and usually less popular side of a phonograph record; a reverse or opposite side, aspect, or result
Yesterday’s post about the things I appreciate more since having children got me thinking about the flip-side…the things I appreciate less. Here are some things that came to mind:
Chatty Customer Service. Motherhood has turned me into a bit of a Goldilocks when it comes to customer service. I find it annoying when someone who is paid to provide service to customers is surly or distracted. If it is apparent that you have having a personal call behind the counter when you should be asking me how you can help, I get downright indignant. I drug (not hyperbole) myself and two children to your establishment. Please recognize my value. However, if you are overly chatty I find that equally annoying. More so with children. I appreciate efficiency. Sure, hand my kids a sticker. That’s sweet. But I don’t need you to strike up a conversation about your favorite cartoon characters. My goal is to get out of this store as fast as possible. Please assist me with my quest.
Appetizers. Once upon a time, I appreciated being asked about drinks and appetizers before ordering my meal. Now, I’d prefer to just skip to the main event. If I simply decline the offer of appetizers, the waiter is likely to walk away in order to provide the time he perceives is necessary for me to review the menu. Can’t he see I’m sitting with two ticking time bombs that need some form of kid menu noodle or fried meat as soon as possible?!? So, I’m left with a choice to gamble on the civility of hungry children or appear pushy by ordering our meals as we’re being seated. Now that indoor spaces are smoke free, I would suggest that we re-introduced sectioned seating. Instead of Smoking and Non Smoking we can divide ourselves into Leisurely and Non Leisurely. Who’s with me?
Convenient Gum. Before children, I appreciated the ability to grab a pack of gum on my way through the check-out stand. Now, the inconvenience of time spent wrestling trinkets and candy out of preschool fingers just isn’t worth it. This is especially annoying to me on the “Family Friendly” check-out line. What is family friendly about a rack of brightly packaged high fructose corn syrup at child-eye-level? The Family Friendly checkout line should stock toothpaste, stamps, hand sanitizer and toilet paper. Those are the last-minute grab and go things I could use.
Encores. I’m tired. All the time. Seattle babysitters charge $15 per hour. My regular bedtime is 9 pm. All these things make me wish that you’d lead with the good stuff, bow like you mean it and then allow me to go home.
High Heel Shoes. In my younger days the relative discomfort of high heels was worth the sexy calves. These days, high heels only complicate my already un-ergonomical existence. Holding a child’s hand requires a slight stoop in flats; adding a three inch handicap turns a slight stoop into an impression of an evolution poster (the phase just after rocks have been sharpened into tools). Plus, I may need to sprint after mischief-makers at any moment. High heels are simply not appropriate footwear for motherhood. So, I’ll just have to settle for the sexy cankles highlighted by my slip-on shoes.