Another Round Of "Conversations I Didn't Think I Would Be Having This Week"

I hadn't done one of my "conversation" blog posts in a while, so I made it a point last week to take a note of at least one strange conversation I had a day, because let's be honest here, it's not like I'm getting any more normal.

Monday kicked itself off to a rocking start when I was at the Chiropractic office that I work at on Monday's (that's it, I'm going to have to make them a label, they have been on here like 5 times already). Anyway, one of the chiropractors and I were going to be hosting a table together at a local festival coming up in our area — him for his practice and I for the nonprofit, but together so that we could share the cost — and I needed to know some of the details for event. As I've mentioned in other posts, he has a very dry sense of humor that unless you know him, comes off as very blunt and unfriendly.

Game on.

Me: What time are you going to get there?

Him: When I get there.

Me: OK, well how will I know if you are there?

Him: Well, if you show up and you see a tent, I'm there. If you show up and you don't see a tent, I'm not there yet. (Chuckles to himself)

Me: Well look at you Mr. Funny Man, laughing at your own jokes, so proud of how funny you think you are with your witty comebacks.

Him: (Looking slightly embarrassed, he attempts to re-route the conversation) Don't wear black. It's going to be hot, so that shirt you are wearing right now, don't wear anything like that.

(Apparently now I need help dressing myself?)

Me: I'm not going to wear black, I'm going to wear tinfoil so that all of my sun will reflect onto you. At least that way when you are standing around with that grouchy statue-like face, you will have a nice Greek tan going on.

Him: I could absolutely see you wearing a tinfoil hat.

Me: Duh, how else will the mothership find me?

And then I turned around, left, and went home.

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Tuesday:

On Tuesday a good friend and I went to go see Magic Mike XXL in the theatre. 

(P.S. it was awful. I write better text messages than that entire team of writers did coming up with a plot line, but if you were just going to see the actor's bodies, well then step right up and buy a ticket because it did not disappoint)

After the movie my friend and I were sitting in the hallway of the theatre because neither of us were quite ready to go home yet but we didn't really have time to go anywhere else. I told her that we should take a selfie and commemorate a rare outing without kids, and then at the last second I turned and pretended to kiss her.

She laughed and I said "well, I couldn't help it, that movie got me all turned on."

But then some guy from down the hallway yelled back to us "I hear that movie does that to you ladies! Oh and I have great hearing!"

We died.

"Well gee, I mean have you seen my date? Can you blame me?" I yelled back at him in my best impression of a creepy and yet still sultry voice.

He died.

Then, not two seconds later, some teenage girl that works at the theatre came out of one of the rooms pushing a trashcan and holding a broom, and excitedly announced to her colleague, "well it wasn't that bad to clean, I found a Kit Kat!"

(Ew... I'm sure you find all sorts of leftover candy in there, that doesn't mean you should eat it...)

My friend, being just like me, gets up and loudly exclaims "Hey Eden, I'm going to go back in there and look for my Kit Kat, I hope no one stole it!"

Before we left, we took the opportunity to pose with a few movie props. People stared, neither of us cared.

Look close, I'm to the left linking arms with... a fox?

In my defense, it does say "get in the game" on the bottom. Sure, I may not have noticed that until after the picture was taken, but still... I'm counting it.

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Wednesday:

On Wednesday I was back at the chiropractor for my own appointment and we were talking about a cop that walks by every. single. day. on his way to Starbucks. He honestly appears to be in the worst mood of anyone that I have ever seen and in a previous conversation that I had with him, I can assure you that he really is in a bad mood. Since then I'd made it my personal mission to see if I could get that guy to smile, but after two failed attempts, when I saw him walk by on Wednesday, without thinking, I yelled out "smile, it makes your face look better!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, turned, and glared at me with such intensity and focus that I actually had time to send messages to two other people (with my eyes) that said "am I going to die?"

Eventually he smiled, laughed, shook his head, and walked away.

When my heart started beating again the Chiropractor said "that was an amazing moment. It was like one of those things that you never expect to see in your lifetime... and then you do."

And thankfully I was not killed in the process.

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Thursday:

On Thursday I was making dinner when The Boy Child came into the kitchen dressed as a fireman and held out his walkie talkie toward me.

Him: Momma, you put badereees (batteries) in dis?

Me: (In my head: gosh dammit, why won't he just lose that stupid freaking LOUD toy? How many times is he going to ask me to put batteries in it and how many times am I going to have to say no? Gosh, I have said no a lot and he has been pretty patient with me.) *Loud sigh* 

Out loud: Alright buddy, just let me finish getting this into the oven and then I'll put batteries in it for you.

Him: (Looks me up and down and then cocks his head to one side) You're a good momma (then walks away).

That's me, a good momma; 4 yr year old approved!

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Friday:

I was working the event with the Chiropractor that I had previously mentioned and suddenly we saw the same grouchy cop from Wednesday, looking just as grouchy as ever.

Me to Chiropractor: I bet I can get him to not only smile, but do something happy looking.

Him: Or he could kill you.

Me: Watch me.

I walked over to the cop, stood shoulder to shoulder next to him, did one of those things were I wasn't looking right at him but just sort of leaning in and then said "Alright see that guy over there (pointing to the chiropractor)? I bet him ten bucks that I could get you to smile, so do me a favor and wave to him. Look happy."

Cop: Do I really look at that grouchy all the time?

Me: All the time.

Cop plasters on a BIG smile, waves, and gives the chiropractor a thumbs up.

Me to Cop: Well played. Let me know if you ever need a favor.

Then I walked away.

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Saturday: 

The Girl Child walked into my room and told me that The Boy Child had eaten a "handful" of cookie dough out of a container that I had in the fridge — a container that I had SPECIFICALLY said to him not five minutes earlier "do not eat this, we are going to cook this later and if you eat it you will get sick."

Apparently he decided to ignore me.

Not cool kid, not cool.

Two minutes later The Boy Child walked into the room where I was folding laundry and started talking to me.

Boy: Momma?

Me: 

Boy: Momma??

Me:

Boy: MOMMA?

Me: (crickets chirping in the background)

Boy: MOOOOMMMMAAAAAA!!!!

Me:

Boy: DING DONG! I'M TALKING TO YOU!

**The "ding dong" threw me off a bit and I had to stifle my giggles in a blanket I was folding**

Me: Oh, are we talking to each other now? Because since I heard that you were eating cookie dough after I told you not to, I thought we were ignoring each other.

Boy: (Scowl on his face) Weeeellllll I wasn't planning to tell you and if you didn't find out, then no punishment!

Me: Well I did find out so now the only thing that you will be having for dinner is rice and vegetables since you already had your sweets for the day.

He then stomped his way out of the room, but not before turning around to tell me "and you tell Sissy that we are not friends anymore!"

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Sunday:

Alright, this conversation admittedly took place entirely in my head, but I think once you read what happened you will agree that it fits here.

On Sunday we went to church and thanks to the rising numbers of people on gluten or dairy free diets, my church has a communion line which offers gluten and dairy free bread. Religious reasons aside that totally rocks my world because when I visit my friends churches and they don't have that option, I get stuck looking like the unbeliever, like I'm still waiting to be saved.

You know what I mean right? It's that moment when the pastor says "If you believe that Christ died for your sins and you have accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, we invite you to come up to the front and partake in our Father's meal. If you're not quite there yet, we encourage you to remain in your seat and spend a little time in prayer."

Well if there's no gluten free bread, where am I supposed to go?

To the bathroom, that's where, because my only two other options are to fake-stand in the line only to get to the front and be like "JUST KIDDING" and walk away, or remain in my seat where multiple people come up to me and attempt to save my soul by praying over me.

Neither one are particularly great options.

But my church, my church rocks. The way communion works at my church is that the host is holding a basket in one hand and a chalice type cup in another hand. The bread is pre-cut into little cubes roughly the size of a large dice. You take a piece of the bread and as you are being blessed, you dip it into the cup.

Unfortunately the church isn't interested in how the bread actually tastes and whatever they buy pretty much tastes like sand and cement that has been shaped into gluten free bread. I'm not kidding when I say it really is that bad. Also unfortunate for me is that whoever had the job of cutting the bread that day must not have had enough coffee or I dunno, was suddenly overcome by the glory of the Lord and forgot to finish his job, because the bread was only cut halfway through.

I realized this when I attempted to take a piece of that brick-like bread and the entire loaf came with it.

I quickly set it back into the basket and did my best to kind of twist and yank the part I had my fingers on, but it would not come off. The last thing I wanted to do was put my hands all over something that was going to go into another person's mouth, but... I don't know! WHAT ARE THE RULES FOR THIS??

I started to panic a bit when I realized that I was totally holding up the entire line and in a last ditch effort to not abandon the server with previously fingered bread, I put a vice grip on what I was already holding and with my other hand, I used my fingertips to hold down the rest of the loaf.

Then I threw up a hail Mary and yanked.

I served myself a cupcake.

I am not even kidding, what came off was literally the size of a large cupcake. What the hell was I supposed to do that? Rip it in half and put some back? Ew! Plus I had already been standing there for a solid three minutes. The music had ended! The Pastor was standing on the stage! Everyone was looking at me!!

TAKE THE BREAD EDEN.

Trying to play it cool I went to dip the cupcake in the chalice and it did not even remotely fit. Imagine dipping an apple into a shot glass — YES IT WAS EXACTLY THAT BAD.

I had no choice left but to hold my head high, turn around, and make the very long walk down the center aisle to the very last row (where my chair was). Every single eye was on me and I don't know if that's because I was blocking everyone's view of the pastor, or if it was because I walked down the aisle eating a communion cupcake. 

A CUPCAKE, PEOPLE, I WAS EATING A CUPCAKE. 

Sitting in my chair trying to choke down all that sand and cement, I almost gagged. I'm not even making this up. I was having a hard time swallowing that dry excuse for bread (but throwing it away just felt morally sinful), so there I sat, desperately trying not to cough too loudly as crumbs kept attaching themselves to the inside of my throat and being inadvertently sucked into my lungs.

I mean really now, it would not surprise me at all if I died choking on a communion cupcake. My luck is just that good.

GIF Photo Credits: Giphy

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