Baby Daddy

Yesterday I was at Target in the check out line.  I found myself right behind a young father of 3 who was loading up the conveyor belt with his extensive spoils.  The little bambinos, the eldest of which could not have seen more than 4 years on this Earth, were causing quite a ruckus, as is their duty.  The Dad was flustered, but sweetly and patiently keeping on top of it all, muttering things to himself about, "Yes, we got the Taylor Swift CD, ok there's the Windex, oh, and the nail polish..."

Then suddenly as the cashier began scanning their bounty of items, the oldest threw his arms up in the air, 

"Dad! Dad!  GET ME DOWN, GET ME DOWN!"

Dad: Ok, yeah...[picks him up and gets him out of the cart].

Boy: I've GOT TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!

Dad: No, you have to wait a few minutes.

Boy: NO, I've GOT TO go NOOWWWWWWW!

Dad: No!  I can't take you right now!

Boy: I'm going to go to the bathroom in

THREE!....

TWO!....

ONE!....

Nothing happened in the way of bodily waste making a home where it shouldn't, but I think Dad must have popped a few Excedrin when he got home.  Utterly cute.

story time: my most sincere apologies

about 2 months ago, a total betty named nicole moved into my ward and (get ready for your mind to blow) apartment complex.  she hails from UT, is an RN, a beautiful brunette, speaks portuguese, and i love having her around.

hold up, i need to explain something else: i had some bad luck with keeping cell phones alive this last year.  don't ask me how, but i went through 4 very quickly.  as cameron departed for his mission, he bequeathed unto me his cell phone in a moment of oozing generosity.  he had but one request: that i not delete any of his contacts, as he'd surely want to transfer them over to the new swanky phone he'll get in 17 months when he returns home an awkward farmer's tanned dude.  cool, done and done.

ok back on track.  so due to the fact that in my apartment complex, you are unable to swing a dead cat without it hitting nicole's apartment, when i need to tell/ask her something or just visit, i just gyrate on over.  on occasion people have asked me for her number, and so i dug up on my/camer's phone nicole's utah area-coded number, and passed it along.  the last couple of days we've been trying to get a disneyland trip together, and i was most displeased that she never answered my phone calls and never texted me back.  [growl and sigh]  then this morning i was invited to disneyland by our friend brad and wasn't sure if i could go (we unemployed people are insanely busy, you know).  a few minutes later i got a text from an unknown number that said something to the effect of:

"hey meredith!  it's nicole!!!  what is this about you not coming to disneyland?!  please come."

uh, who is that other nicole that i've texted and whom other people, through my sharing technique, have also texted and/or called?

to   if i know!

well, no, i know, it's got to be one of cam's friends, to whom i issue my most drippy apology for causing you confusion.  i only hope you're not contracted to an AT&T stingy text messaging plan.  and, as ever, MERZY CHRISTMAS!

storytime: EWWWW!

i've had the notion of a teaching credential flitting around in the back of my head for a few years, and i think that now might be a good time to snatch it up and run with it.  this story, from the reservoir of one of my best friends alyson as she taught 1st grade a few years ago, makes me think it could be a lot of fun:

she sat in circle time with her pupils, discussing the mysteries of the universe.  alyson noticed that one of her students (we'll call her suzy, as i'm of the opinion that all little girls wear the name "suzy" very well) had her shirt on backwards; the tag was exposed.  aly let suzy know and was about to suggest that she slip out to the little girls' room to rectify the situation, but before she could get that far, suzy lifted the shirt and started twisting it around.  she yanked that shirt all the way up.  aly gasped, sure that either suzy would be taunted for the rest of her days for being a flasher or that a law-suit-happy parent would walk in the door for an impromptu visit.  all suzy's classmates reacted with squeals and yells, one little boy loudest of all:

"EWWWW!  i saw her BELLY BUTTON!"

P.D.A.

yesterday i planned to meet my mom at the costco in tustin market place so we could pick up some edamame and samplify.  splendid.  

because my driving style is a bit quicker than my mother's on any day of the week but sunday (when she becomes a car operating banshee of hellfire and screechy brakes to get to church on time) i beat her there.  i called to let her know i was waiting for her in my car.

i was about to pick up my book, but then a big suburban pulled into the spot right in front of me.  the couple looked to be in their late 30s, he had a short beard and she had her hair pulled into a messy bun with very cute bangs grazing her eyebrows.  they looked haggard.  like they hadn't had a good night's sleep since the chandra levy scandal.  disquieted would also be another word i'd use to describe the looks on their faces.  so now my inner cynic was not surprised but curiously hooked.  did they just find shrooms in their 12 year old's underwear drawer?  did he just lose his job?  is their daughter having trouble with friends at school?  maybe their cat was turned into a snack by a prowling coyote?  or are they just sick of the sight of each other, and they want this errand to be over and done with, at warp speed if possible, so they can get back to their separate married lives?  my mind reeled with the possible reasons for the apparent deluge of stress and exhaustion, pointless as it was.  what, was i going to go ask them, "hey, so...how happy are you both?   what's eating you?  looks to me someone could use a hu-ug!"  their problems and their ultimate result would surely remain a complete and total mystery to me, but they were right there in front of me, in the flesh, and i wondered all the same.  then, THEN, to my surprise, as she gathered up her purse and he took the keys out of the ignition, they leaned over the front console and smooched.  and then giggled!  

i could hear the hallelujah chorus.  a chip to throw in the "faith in marriage" bucket!  tired, stressed, but still zesty and enthusiastic about each other, enough to lean over to the other side of the probably apple juice-stained car seats and steal a snog.

then they kept kissing, oh ok great, wow they really like each other...and kissing....

ew ew ew ew ick ick STOP ALREADY!  can't you see i'm RIGHT HERE?!

merciful heavens.  sucking face like 12 year olds in broad daylight!

ahem.  

i got out of the car and waited for mom at the entrance, and tried not to giggle when they walked by me holding hands.

ahem [fidgeting with my jacket zipper].

storytime: suzy banana split

another freaking BYU story:

in my last semester at BYU there was a girl in my ward named tasha haute. pronounce the last name "hot." tasha was a great gal; her portrayal of sporty spice in the ward lip sync was pretty much spot-on. the strapping gentlemen in the ward noticed her loveliness and started to plan to work on tasha, and then began to work their plans. i knew nothing of the successes or failures of these suitors, only that she had options a-plenty.

one night i was coming back late with some friends and parking the car. guess who should be stashed in the dark and apparently romance-spurring corner of the parking garage. tasha hot and fellow wardie john fudge! making out like 12 year olds! yes, 12 year olds. after closing our mouths so as not to appear cod-fishes, we evacuated the premises in a manner not unlike mary ann, mrs. dashwood, and margaret in that pen-ultimate scene in sense and sensibility.

in the time since, i have ascertained that tasha haute and john fudge did indeed take their compatibility to the bank, and were married after i graduated BYU.

so tasha became tasha hot fudge.

true story.

story time: don't leave your phone at a house full of monsters.

two years at byu i had the good fortune/pained struggle of living across the parking lot from "the honky tonk."  this was the nick name for a gorgeous brick house that was zoned for 4 boys on the top floor and 3 in the basement, but these boys were law unto themselves and remorselessly stashed no fewer than 15 tenants in that house at all times.  they were all from arizona, like 90% of BYU, or alaska, like 0% of BYU.  one of my best friends was engaged to a member of the honkey tonk, and we were all good friends.  most of the time. 

one sunday evening we'd all been shootin the breeze, and when i left to go back home, i forgot my cell phone.  hours later i realized my oversight and went back to retrieve my little gem of technology.  i had about 15 missed calls and text messages, and they just kept comin.  

"are you ok?" 

"i'm in the middle of dinner, i'll call you in a bit."

"oh!  so good to hear from you again!"

and so on.  i was a bit confused, so i looked in my SENT MESSAGES box and some impudent scally-wag (cough cough ryan darby) had sent to everyone, and i do mean EVERYONE in my phonebook, 

"call me.  i miss you."

this was especially wonderful, because in my phonebook lay numbers for people such as my bishop, my best friend's dad, boys i'd dated, blind date nightmares, boyfriends and husbands of friends and cousins, etc.  it was a treat, a real treat over the next 24 hours to see what reactions this text message provoked.  

it's ok though, because the next week we put fliers over every door in the ward saying,

"coming into the light by coming out of the closet.

you're invited to a candid fireside by ryan darby about his experience as a gay mormon."

story time: aly

this would not yield the same reaction outside of provo.

when aly (the one in the lovely middle) and i had only been roommates a little while (and were still getting to know each other), we were grocery shopping at macey's. it was late at night, i was probably contemplating the paper i had not yet begun, which was also due the next day, and whether or not i should have picked up more discounted string cheese. it was a busy night, early enough in the semester to send BYU students in droves to the markets to fill empty cupboards with all the necessary ingredients to win lovers by nurturing stomachs. thus the store and the lines were sardine packing style.


all of a sudden aly turns to me and says with a very solemn, gentle voice, "so merzy, what are you going to do about your classes?"
i yawned, "what do you mean?"
"you know, [eyes widening and jaw clenching] what are you going to do about classes when...?" her eyes darted to my stomach and back to my face.
"aly, what are you talking about?"
in a slightly exasperated and definitely louder voice, "when the baby comes! are you going to drop out of your classes or wait for them to kick you out or what?!"
about 50 shocked eyeballs in my grocery line as well as the neighboring line-ups looked over at me. i started to laugh.
"merzy," she hissed, "this is not funny. have you even told the father yet?" i swear a few people gasped in line 7.

good times, good times.