October 1, 2007

STOP TOUCHING MY CHILD!!!!!



It's so true in life.... everything happens for a reason.


Several years ago, the Big Dubya took a job -- a job that in the end, just wasn't a great fit for him. It's hard to regret his taking the job though, as it resulted in some of the great things in our life. It brought us to the area where we live which, for the most part, we love. And, it introduced us to the Buffaloes, who have become the most wonderful friends.


There were some other people we met in the course of this job..... some who we were friendly with, but then lost touch.... sad, but it happens. Some who we thought we were friends with, but as it turns out we weren't really..... disappointing, but oh well. And then there are the people that these people bring along with them -- girlfriends, boyfriends......


The Big Dubya was friends with a woman -- she was a lot of fun and we spent time with her and her boyfriend. We liked this woman, and the guy, well....... he was kind of strange -- but, other than the "ick" factor, he seemed harmless enough -- we kind of accepted him as part of the package. We weren't all that disappointed when their relationship began to fizzle out..... we'd hoped that she would move on to somebody better -- and then we lost touch with her, but we do know through some mutual friends that she did meet someone and married him -- so, it sounds like she's found some well deserved happiness.


Unfortunately, the ick dude..... well, he lives near us. For the past couple of years, we've somehow managed to miss running into him...... but you know it was bound to happen.


A couple of months ago, I was sitting at a traffic light and Mister Ick sped by me on a red moped..... I'll address my thoughts on grown 40-something men riding teeny-tiny mopeds in another post. I immediately called the Big Dubya and Mrs Cape Buffalo to relay my sighting..... I was thrilled that it was merely a drive-by and that I wasn't forced to make small talk with the guy, we had a good laugh and didn't give it a second thought. This past Saturday..... not so lucky.


The 'lil Dubyette and I were minding our own business, waiting in the deli line at Stop & Shop when I saw him. There was nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide. I could only bow my head and pray that he didn't see me...... I began playing with 'lil Dubyette's toes..... hoping to avert my eyes without looking like I was averting my eyes.


It was too late, he saw me --

Mr Ick: "Mrs Big Dubya, is that you? it's me Mr Ick"

Me: "Of course, hello Mr Ick -- how are you?"


We made small talk, and then he began rubbing 'lil Dubyette's head (WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU.... GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY BABY!)..... smart child that she is, she began to grimace and whimper -- lucky for him he stopped, so I didn't have to lay on a smack-down in front of the cheese case.


I got to meet Mrs Ick..... yes, apparently he found a Mrs Ick and they have a Baby Ick.... And then he started asking me all sorts of questions about his Ex.


Uhm...... kind of uncomfortable in front of new wife, dontcha think???


Other than she met a guy, moved and got married.... I know nothing -- so I told him that hoping to end the whole ordeal -- but he started discussing their break-up and how they'd kept in touch and that she'd moved to Virginia......


My deli number was called, so I bid farewell and placed my order -- praying that they'd just go away.


He did...... I proceeded to shop very, very slowly -- didn't want to risk a second encounter.

3 comments:

Sue said...

I hate hate hate when people think they can touch you or your child. Stop n Shop is fully of icky people too, sorry you had to run into your personal Mr. Ick.

Mamacita Tina said...

I can see where the Ick comes in. Wow, talking about an ex in front of a new wife. Oh yeah, he's a real winner.

Kara said...

If they only knew Mr. Ick the way we do....

I'll never forget, one chaotic night, when you came to me and said "Mr. Big Dubya is about to kill Mr. Ick"... Mr Ick was practically trying to sit on Dubya's lap, poodle style. I love watching your husband fight an inner battle between decorum and straight-up rage.

Good times, good times.

 
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