Saturday night, my phone rings. I look at the caller ID and see it's a call from the next town over, but I didn't recognize the name. I answer the phone.
The lady on the other end of the phone asked for me, and when we confirmed I was who she was looking for, she said she was Beth (names changed to protect the moronic) from MOPS and asked me if I could watch TJ (assumably her son) Monday night so she could go to a Mary Kay party.
|I can try on as much lip gloss as I like! I left little Billy at the first address in the phone book.|
Actually first, she asked me what I was doing Monday night. When I said "I don't know," she said "That's great!" I assumed she was going to invite me to a MOPS event. Then, I thought she was inviting me to a Mary Kay party, and I started to get annoyed. It wasn't either, and I was really confused.
I don't know anyone named Beth who has a son named TJ. In fact, I've regrettably only been able to attend one MOPS meeting this year.
(MOPS is a great organization where moms
Um yeah...hey Beth, you might want to ask people you actually know.
After I hung up, the guilt left and the stupidity meter was ringing off the charts.
So you're going to ask someone you've never met to watch your kid so you can attend an at-home party? What if I was a psychopath who just liked to be included on mom-based phone trees? Are you really that desperate to buy cosmetics at some one's house that you'd leave your son with me? Because I was planning a Chardonnay bender Monday night, and though your son is welcome to come along, he has to bring his own box of wine. Not to mention, I live a town away from you.
Some people need to have DCFS on speed dial.