Moms I’d Like to Punch: The Supermarket Edition
Title catch your eye? Yes! You know exactly who I’m talking about, and chances are good that you know one, are married to one, or you ARE a MILP (Mom I’d Like to Punch). Regardless of where you stand, let’s all agree that in our cushy, white bread world, that if we reflect upon what we are saying, doing or watching others do the only words that come to mind are What. The. Duck. (Thanks, autocorrect)!
This maiden MILP post was inspired by Yours Truly. If you can’t make fun of yourself what the duck are you good for? But be warned…follow up MILP posts are coming, and you’re next! Not so Sunny now, am I?
So WHY, you ask, am I a Mom You’d Like to Punch? As if the ‘artsy’ supermarket cover pic didn’t seal the deal?
Today, after a juice bar date with a friend, I mozied on over to the supermarket to pick up some raspberries. These raspberries were for a blog post: Chocolate Bread Pudding with Raspberries: A-Mazing. I had just previously picked up a beautifully crusted loaf of chocolate bread from the local When Pigs Fly showroom. Raspberries were to be the finishing touch.
As I entered the market, it hit me. It hit me like a sugary golden caramel drizzle hits a cloud of dolphin friendly whip on a freshly spun Vente Skinny Frappuccino by an ironic bearded barista named Cheddar. I am grossly a MILP!
For instance: I can spend two hours in the supermarket–and have ‘deep’ and ‘life-changing’ conversations in aisle seven.
Furthermore: I often imagine a supermarket DJ (named Brie) who just slays a playlist created just for me.
And like Brie’s playlist, my MILP offenses just go on and on. What follows is a list of ten that seem particularly egregious:
My reusable shopping bag is Coldplay. THE BAND Coldplay. Chris Martin guides me to channel my inner Gwyneth (post-uncoupling, but pre-Goop debacle).
I buy my kids seltzers called Mermaid Songs. (Because likely the whispers of a mermaid will ensure that my children focus in school and become successful leaders, yet remain kind and care about the environment.)
My parenting style is much like my eggs… Free Range! (But I’m not an absent mom, so don’t judge.) These blog posts aren’t going to write themselves.
Even my chicken nuggets are educational. JUST KIDDING! I would NEEEVVVER feed these to my kids! (Product of Canada. Not gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free, bully-free, or made from uncensored, dye-free unicorn farts.)
Because this organic coconut oil is for my callus-free feet. And yes, I make my own scrub. And yes you can find that recipe on #Pinterest, but only if you subscribe and share my page with your gardener, your priest and your clitoral-stimulating psychic.
Because water needs a taste. (Written with valley girl accent. Picture Jimmy Fallon: “Ewww!”) Now I can’t stop saying it….’Ewwww.’
Because my TP for when I peepee is on the down low so nobody realizes I do do the voodoo I doo-doo.
Kale Greens. JUST KIDDING! I grow my own. Duh! (And it’s the base of all soups, stews and genital-friendly anti-inflammatory ointments I make, so step off.)
I spent a fortune and still left without raspberries because THEY HAVE NO RASPBERRIES then went to a local farm to get a teeny tiny container of raspberries and they hold them ransom for $6.99 and you know they know they’re the only ones with raspberries but I need the raspberries to go with the $6.00 loaf of bread I just bought for a recipe…I’m exhausted from that and I need a latte. WHERE IS CHEDDAR when you need him?!
I circle the parking lot three times over five minutes and open the wrong white SUV just once because I’m #soooooounique. I totally thought my paddle boarding mermaid bumper sticker would set me from the rest. I’ll have to get my car eyelashes to match mine and step up my game. (Alexa. Get me eye lashes, pronto!)
I know. I know!! You don’t have to tell me. I. Already. Know. But I’m a good person; I swear! Laughing at yourself is the first step after you realize how you sound. Second step: full body cringe.
The best thing you can do is pick yourself up, dust off your LuLus, or LuLaRoes, or camel toes or whatever– and laugh along and wait patiently for my Chocolate Bread Pudding with Raspberry. I promise it’ll put everything into perspective.
So. Can we agree that I’m a total dick–but still lovable, and kind, and drop dead gorg…. Fine. I’m done. Roll your eyes and laugh AT me, but whether you’re a MILF or MILP, and if you’re a MILF you’re a MILP by default…I’m coming for you next! You’ve been warned.
For More MILP Posts read: