Baby Buggy Buggers: And You Thought Hummers Were Obnoxious
Went to NorthPark Center in fancy North Dallas a few afternoons ago. Don't go often. Already have all the monogrammed Kleenex I need. But let me ask you something. What is it with the triple baby carts?
You know I'm not making this up. You've seen it. There are people out there who are pushing baby carriages that carry three babies at a time. They look like they got their babies at Sam's Club.
I object. I do. I actually object to the two-fers, which are worse in some ways than the three-fers because the two-baby buggies tend to be side-by-sides. These women push their babies at you like they're driving a damn snow-plow.
I guess their gamble, when they come after me with those big hummers, is that there's no way I'm going to kick a baby. Well, you know what, dear? Don't bet the farm.
Let me ask you something else about the ones who have three babies in a stroller. Why do they have three babies? When did that start? Is it something to do with fertility drugs?
That's none of my business, I know. If people want to have their children by the litter, that's their look-out. They get next to me in line, though, and I can't help looking them over thinking, "OK, now, there's always one that bites."
But I get more than nervous when some great big pumped-up Octo-Mom in her workout togs comes at me in a doorway shoving an 18-wheeler load of infants at my shins. It's infant chicken. If I stand my ground, there are gonna be infants all over the highway.
Damn! They always win!
Well, not always. Saw a great shootout just before I left. Here she comes to enter the store: It's 30-something Ms. Fecundity of Iowa 2009 pushing her ram-charged nubby-tired double-wide barrel of babies at top speed with murder in her eye. And who should be coming out the other way to leave by the same narrow doorway? Aha! It's Ms. Down-As-Dirt Late-50s Put-Upon-Daughter of Kansas 2010, pushing her totally out-of-it 90-plus mother or mother-in-law in a beat-up Medicare wheelchair blotched by Ensure stains.
It's tense. The air throbs with dubious odors. Which one will blink? Who will prevail?
Oh, wow! The late-50s lady shoves that wheelchair out there like, "We're ready to die, bitch! Are you?"
Miss Fecundity pauses. She sucks in air! She steers hard to the right to get out of the Ms. Down-As-Dirt's way. Yeah! That's what I'm talkin' about! She's a whipped damn dog! I think she kinda whacked that first baby into the plate glass. Of course I feel bad for the baby.
But, man, that was sweet. So sweet. Don't ever put a baby up against an old person. Anybody should be able to figure that out. One old person weighs twice what three fat babies do.
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