Mother-of-the-Year: Picking Fights with Giants

As of late, I've been trying to figure a few things out and feeling deeply stressed, and at times, trapped.  This is causing me to feel an itty bit...irritable.  Those who cross paths with me generally don't know because I am a fantastic liar.  I am, afterall, a white, stay-at-home mom in the suburbs and that is what we do.  We put on a smiling face, slap on the lip plumping lipstick, and zumba our hearts out..despite crumbling marriages, financial woes, or children who are ready at any moment to steal our very last shred of sanity.

In an effort to try to preserve nap time at my home, I have had a sign posted on my door for 5 years now that says, "Do not disturb between 1 and 4. No soliciting EVER."  Our neighborhood gets a lot of door-to-door folks seeking our money for cleaning products or magazines, and the occasional solicitor pining for our religious conversion.

These solicitors come at nap times and dinner times.  Two BAD times of the day at our home.

Last night, I saw a van drop off a group of african american teens.  It made me mad and not because I would be solicitied -- my signs would stop that, but because I imagined that there was a white man behind some curtain somewhere, pulling the strings of these poor, disenfranchised youth, making them do his dirty work, while he took what little money they made.

The girls watched two youth walk to our door while we ate -- I told them to stay in their seats.  To my surprise the doorbell rang.

Hmmmm....Apparently the kids didn't read the sign...or they ignored it. 

At nap time today, I saw two more youth coming to the door.  The male had to be well over 6 feet tall and well over 200 pounds...and the female dwarfed me, too, actually.  Andi was sound asleep, the girls were painting their nails, and I was scrubbing the kitchen, bitching and cursing in my mind about things that were not going my way.  Let's just say, in the state I was in, a wise man would not cross paths with me. Good thing I had the sign up.

But...

Ding DONG!  The door bell rang.  What the damn fuck? I thought to myself.  I kept scrubbing, harder now.  Pretty soon these two giants at my door start banging on it.

Oh hell no.

I throw my scrubber down and exit through my garage and head to my front door,
"Can't you read my sign? I have children napping. STOP making so much  noise!"

The huge male, instead of apologizing becomes defensive and hyperverbal about there being no sign. I cut him off and say, "well, then it fell down.  But I still need you to quit making noise."

He continues to sass at me -- a mom of twin GIRLS -- and I think, "all right, bring it." I look at the pair and ask if they have their permit to be going door-to-door. The female shows it to me in a compliant manner, but the giant ass mouthed male, who is raising his voice and who has never stopped sassing says,

"Yes we do have our permit.  That's what I hate about coming out here to this area.  All you motherfuckers call the cops on us if we don't have our permits."



Oh no he didn't just come to my door and sass at me, and wake up my 2-year-terror and then call me a motherfucker.



I looked at him, with rage surging through me, forgetting my size, forgetting all my dad and Dave have told me about not picking fights with those bigger than I and I stepped towards him.

"Listen fuckhead.  That's right people will call the cops on you.  We are all crazy and stressed out here, and we didn't invite anyone to come sell us shit we don't want.  That's intrusive so now fuck off."

He continued sassing at me, but I had had it.  I am about at my wit's end with stupid men -- believe me, I have met enough lately, and I turned on my heal to see my twins standing there, wide-eyed.

"He's leaving now mama.  It's ok." Sophia told me.

"Stupid fuckhead," said Ella.

Mother-of-the-Year...and Citizen-of-the-Year
*Author's note* The giants were twenty-somethings ... I wouldn't probably have spoken to teens that way...not that I should have spoken to anyone that way....