It tastes like burning!

Last night at Joseph's parent/child class a police officer came and talked to the kids about safety. I asked Joseph what the officer told them and our conversation went like this:

Joseph: Officer Nick told us not to go in other people's yards or houses if we don't know them.
Me: Why not?
J: Because they might be strangers.
M: Right, and who's house could you go into?
J: Grandma's and Beanie's and your's and The Wheeze's and Officer Nick's.
M: And other people too if Mommy and Daddy tell you it's ok. What else did he tell you?
J: Not to get in stranger's cars.
M: That's a good idea.
J: Why?
M: Because there are some people who aren't very nice to kids. Only go in someone's car if Mommy or Daddy or Grandma or Grandpa say it's ok.
J: Or in Officer Nick's car. And I always have to wear a seat belt.
M: That's right, what else did you talk about?
J: Not to take candy from stangers.
M: Why not?
J: Because it could have poison or, you know, maybe be on fire.

This conversation was much more amusing than the one I had just before it with one of the idiot parents in the class. She thought it was ok to talk about Joseph while he was standing 2 feet away and say such insightful things as "He sure is hyper ain't he?" and "He talks so much that no one else could get a word in with the police officer." (She knew this because for some reason her idiot sister who is roughly the size of a Mac truck comes to the class and stays in the room with the kids during the time when the parents go into another room to talk.) and "He's adopted right? So he ain't your real kid?" She got pretty rude responses from me but not as rude as I would have liked to have been. So here's what I would have said if I could have said whatever I wanted to: "Yes, he's my real kid and no he's not hyper. He just has a lot of energy. You know what energy is right? It's that thing you use when you waddle your fat ass out to the car to go down to the Dairy Queen for the fourth time in one day. Lots of kids are energetic. You should know that but I'm not suprised you don't since your entire family looks like the most exercise it gets is when it bends over to pick up that Cheeto that you dropped last week and just realized was still under the couch. And yes, Joseph talks a lot but I'm glad that he has a lot to say. It shows me he has a lot on his mind and a lot he wants to share with other people. I would rather have a kid who talks too much than to be raising that grunting little pig that you call a child. Oh, and before I go, do you think you could manage, for once, to wear a shirt to class that is not stained in several places. And sis, how about retiring those black stretch pants? They're starting to become a safety issue. If they get stretched any tighter the button is going to fly off and put someone's eye out."

So yeah, it's a good thing to have a little internal switch that doesn't let me let loose like that. I have to admit though that there is a part of me that knows it would have felt damn good to have said that stuff. Of course I would have felt bad later. I'm too nice.

For anyone who thinks I'm being harsh, I should point out that these people have been a thorn in my side since we moved to St Cloud. They used to live in the same apartment building as us and we would see them all the time in the hall, in the lobby, in the garage and in the parking lot. They would literally stop what they were doing and turn to stare at us. Not discreetly either! They would make it pretty clear and they did it every fricken time they saw us. Even after we moved it didn't stop. We would see them everywhere! In the store, in the car next to us on the road, if we would go out to eat and twice (twice for God's sake!) in the emergency room. And each and every time they stared at us like we were naked and had horns growing out of our head. I honestly groaned out loud the first time I saw them come into the parent/child class. We will never be free of them.