Dear Crazy Lady at Target,
I appreciate that demonstrating strawberry lemonade at Target may not be the most stimulating gig in the world. I appreciate this because I have, in fact, been a food demonstrator. It’s mind-numbing to make small-talk with people that just want to mooch food without actually buying what you’re hawking.
When I remarked that it’s so great that Little Dude can have the artificially flavored strawberry lemonade, because he’s allergic to actual strawberries, your response was a major fail. In the future, please do not ever, ever say to a child who can’t eat strawberries,
“Oooh, how terrible to be allergic to strawberries. ‘Cause they’re so gooooooood.”
Have I become addled from wondering around Super Target for so long or did you really just tell my strawberry-allergic child that strawberries are so gooooooood?
I don’t know if you’re a sadistic harpy, or just plain stupid.
The Pork Lo Maniac was with me, and her jaw just about dropped to the floor at your sheer witlessness. She turned, in slow motion, as if expecting me to put you on time out or possibly knock you upside the head with some Method dish detergent. My Aspergerish son is actually medically diagnosed as lacking in social niceties, but he still knew immediately that you were an insensate muttonhead.
In fact, you might have noticed his devastated little face, except you were still too busy dripping the word gooooooood out of your overly-liplined piehole. I thought I had gotten used to the Texan drawl, but this particular moment made me re-think that.
Thank you, Crazy Lady. You have reminded me that for all the difficulties my children have faced, they are not the ones with the problem.