I’m pretty snacky.
That’s the thing about me, I could always go for a snack.
Whenever I’m at some one’s house and they ask, “are you hungry, do you want something to eat?”
The answer is always YES. But because I’m polite, and don’t want to come off like a rabid beast that will eat all of their food, I generally say, “nah, I just ate, thanks. But is that Chex Mix on your counter? I’ll just have a small handful.”
Then an hour later, I’ve devoured their entire bag of Chex, drank half a liter of flat Diet Coke, and my gracious host caught me licking their plastic honey bear container.
And I wonder why I never get invited anywhere.
So last night, after we tucked the kids in bed, Pat and I turned to each other and romantically embraced.
No. Just kidding.
We both decided we were snacky.
But because the snacks in the house aren’t good enough for us, I went to CVS (or Cee Vee’s as we lovingly refer to it as) to score some extra delectable nibblets.
I was feeling super charitable, so I took Zoey along. Sometimes she can be a total turd in the car. She’ll run from one side of the car to the other, and start doing the Mexican hat dance on my uterus with her tiny paws because she’s so damn happy to be going on an adventure. But this time she was calm, and sedated.
Maybe it was because I was sitting on her head?
When I pulled the car up to the front of the store, there were about 9 teenagers sitting out front. They were all talking and texting, and whatnot, but as soon as they saw me they stopped and stared at me.
I started to feel nervous.
I don’t know why.
I guess it was because it felt like high school all over again. Except in high school I was cute.
And 20 pounds lighter.
And blissfully oblivious.
I got out of the car and felt the warmth of their eyes on me. Zoey was being wild and wanted to jump out and get some candy too. So I had to corral her back into the car with all the awkward clumsiness I could muster. I used my ass as a shield, and nearly closed her face in the door.
I could tell those pesky kids were laughing at me. Not only did I look like an idiot, but I was dressed like an idiot too.
I didn’t realize when I left the house, because all I could think about was pretzel M&Ms, but I was wearing my patent leather, neon yellow running shoes, frumpy shorts with chicken fat stains, and an off the shoulder tee shirt that said, “I’m wheezy” with a picture of an inhaler, and it partially revealed my nursing bra that looks like it has the power to wrangle even a gorilla’s mammaries.
I had to walk straight though the crowd to get to the door of Cee Vee’s.
*Here I go*
I didn’t realize the power teenagers had over me until that very moment.
I almost got through the crowd, and then told myself, I can do this. I am a strong, confident WOMAN.
It felt like I was walking though one of those human tunnels that people do after you get married or something, but instead of throwing soft and beautiful rose petals, they were throwing me straight into an ambivalent spiral of anxiety.
And then one of them said, “Hi Weezy.”
What is it about cocky 16 year-olds that make me feel like I’m in Mr. Tsuda’s algebra class all over again?
And why I’m wearing a dumb shirt with an asthma inhaler on it?
Seriously, I’m usually a very confident and secure human being.
I think it was the combination of low blood sugar and the flood of high school memories that gave those suckers such power over me.
And I can’t believe I was humiliated in front of my own dog.
I think I deserve extra candy for that.