Complete Stranger looks to be about 25. Athletic. Male. He has eyes and hair and, I can't be sure, but I believe he has feet and arms and legs. He is just Some Dude.
Now that Complete Stranger has officially graduated to Some Dude I will continue to report our conversation.
I am at the gym admiring my biceps in the mirror from under the baseball hat I wear specifically to avoid eye contact with Some Dude. I am sitting on a bench.
Some Dude appears out of nowhere. He crouches down to speak to me. I begrudgingly remove my ear buds and stare at him expectantly.
"No. I don't believe we've met," I say politely.
"Oh I thought I had seen you before... somewhere..."
"Nope."
"I think you're really cute."
He murmurs this sentence in what I imagine is his best come hither voice.
Gross.
"I'm married."
"That's okay," he smiles and attempts a smolder.
I begin to feel rage well up in my chest. (It may be my protein shake threatening to resurface but it feels a lot like rage.)
"4 kids," I say dryly.
"That's okay," he says again with another revolting smile/smolder. "I like kids."
Without further adieu, I use the twenty pound dumbbell in my left hand to clock him in his greasy melon head. (I am left handed so that's why...) BLAM!
TKO.
I am still angry. I stomp on his genitals as they are the cause of his idiocy in this instance.
The rest of my workout was ruined. I was disgusted to my core.
I AM DISGUSTED WITH THE STATE OF SOCIETY and slimy 25 year old males who have respect for neither the sanctity of the family nor the sanctity of my workout.
There will come a day when I am old and saggy and sad. And perhaps I will miss the times when 25 year old scumbags found me attractive... And told me so...
BUT TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY!!!
I am a Mama.
A Mama of babies with tender feelings who need stability.
I know in The World people view flirting as no big deal. Married or Un. But I have seen too many broken hearts to think flirtations of any kind are cute. I have learned a great deal in my 35 years.
I am offended beyond comprehension at this young man's lack of respect for that which I hold most dear. My family is my life.
Case in point:
My eldest child has been running in 100 degree weather daily. This was her first Cross Country Meet. I am so proud of her I could cry. But instead I scream and shout at the sidelines.
"I want to run with her!" I say as she jogs by red faced.
"Don't embarrass her, Mom," says Child #2.
Tonight Child #2 had her first volleyball game.
She was a bit shy. The ball can be scary. But her serve was effective. She served her team well. ;)
With a bit more practice she will be Team Hero. I can feel it in my BONES!
Earlier today was The Boy's first soccer game of the season. He was lackadaisical for the first half.
I sat him on my lap at halftime.
"Listen to me, son. I don't care how many kids you kick in the process. Make them BLEED! But you had BETTER score. I KNOW you can do it. Get the lead out, boy! I love you."
He scored five minutes later.
That's my boy.
Baby Girl played her very first soccer game ever today. She is a head taller then all the kids on her team.
As you can see, she is grinning ear to ear. She had a ball. He he he.
I am a Mama. I live for this crap.
