Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Meanwhile Back at the Cake

I'm one of those moms that doesn't let her kids do many things that will get them messy. Because I'm one of those moms that doesn't want to clean it up. If it's sticky or dirty or muddy or soaking wet then it's probably not gonna happen kids, sorry. I loathe hose play, ice cream cones, puddles, muddy mud with mud, and whomever it is that invented cotton candy. Inside the house food and drink are not allowed outside the kitchen. Period. If we're taking a trip to the snow I spend a half an hour prior placing several towels lovingly ALL OVER the inside to prevent disaster; and still wet snow boots are prohibited from entering the vehicle - which means we must all take turns hovering our legs out the car door whilst removing the aforementioned offensive boot. Sometimes the socks too.

Ice cream cones GAH! But because I'm not a complete wretched hag, I allow the occasional cone.

(photographic evidence of my bending of the rules)

There are hard and fast guidelines, however. The ice cream must be vanilla in flavor or some other similar non-staining color. Chocolate is right out! And it has to be eaten immediately in the shop. Cones are not "to go". I prefer the kids eat a scoop in a cup with a spoon OR BETTER? A shake. Oh those glorious shakes with their magnificent containment - the lid that fits beautifully on top - and oh the straw!

So today when I entered our local Baskin Robbins and told the young woman behind the counter that I needed to order a cake for Boy-Child#1's birthday that is coming up this week; we both looked in the direction of The Book. The several inches thick book archiving cake after cake, theme upon theme, decisions decisions decisions - that crazy making how do I ever choose just one -book. And parked in a chair just in front of it like it were a library was a nine-ish year old, pushing 120 pounds or more, fist full of giant waffle cone double scooped ice cream kid thumbing through - browsing, if you will. The chocolate dripping down his arm, all over his shirt, lap, and face AND BOOK WITH EACH TURN OF THE PAGE.

I shuddered a bit.

The shudder did not go undetected by the young woman behind the counter.

She took one look at me and made the correct assumption that I was not the kind of woman that was going to want to FOLLOW THAT PERFORMANCE. She probably wished at that moment that there was a second book. Or gloves.


The young woman behind the counter and I both look to the adults associated with the child like, hellllooooo we're standing here discussing cake ordering and how a cake needs choosing and, like, how we'll just wait a sec while junior over here finishes because hey maybe he's got a birthday coming up and he's picking the winner but oh wait it's obvious now the book is just entertainment to pass the time COULD YOU PLEASE ASK YOUR CHILD TO BACK AWAY FROM THE BOOK FOR LIKE FOUR MINUTES?!

Of course not.

Young woman behind the counter would probably like to simply grab the book and hand it to me except for the fact that it's SCREWED into the stand that holds it on account of all the cake ordering book theft and all. Or something.

So she asks him to please, ya know, git. But real nice-like. Cuz she's not me.

And the parents? *crickets*


♥georgie♥ said...

I am not laughing i am not laughing okay i am so laughing-

you mean you order your kids cakes-I now feel like I am jip'n my kiddos...sorta

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

Am LAUGHING because I am that woman--SO mess-phobic that I feed my children snacks outside, never let them eat graham crackers or cupcakes inside (crumbs!) and vacuum the floor 2X a day (crumbs!). I can imagine your EW! at that kid and the sticking.

Karen said...

uh oh.....I did child care for 30 years and my motto was "A messy kid is a happy kid".

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

I needlessly obsess over a variety of things--kids and clothes not among them--they are, after all,both washable.

Play-Do though? Never darkened my door. Thank goodness for preschool.

Martie said...

By the time the 4th kid got here, all was OK if I could stand him on the back deck and hose him off.

I do cringe whenever my 8 year old and her 9 year old Step Sister get out "the arts and crafts stuff"...which is OFTEN. But they have to keep it all in their room...and make me something pretty.

Anonymous said...

Tootsie, haven't posted a comment here for a while, but I read every single one of ya'll posts. Still loving you baby. Your take on the parents? *crickets?* priceless.

cactus petunia said...

Funny. I just stepped out of my *ahem* (20+) year old daughter's room, after rooting through piles of dirty laundry, looking for the extra front door key she misplaced after losing hers and then borrowing mine, forcing me to exit and enter through the back door.

The good news is, I found it! (Along with the spare key to the car I hadn't yet realized was missing)

The bad news? She learned everything she knows about being messy from her mother.

Whatever happened to "Do as I say, not as I do"?

I heard *crickets* chirping just then.

g said...

Euuwwww. The thought of that icky book. I am so glad those days are gone for me.

My kid wasn't a very messy kid - at least about food and things. He's messy with his personal belongings, but at least he keeps them dry and unsticky.

But mud and water and sand and snow don't bother me - having a dog pretty much inured me to anything.

Stu said...

So did you get a cake from the sticky or non-sticky pages?

Nil Zed said...

My attitude veers from 'getting it perfect is so hard, I'll just let it all go to h*ll' to 'if you don't get it dirty, you don't have to clean it up'.

So, some days they get to do a messy project and the whole mess will get cleaned up later, other days they only get to if the project is broken down into steps and cleaning up after each step so that they never finish and the messy project sits around the house in its unfinished state, causing a continuing mess. It's hard to just GO with the making of the mess, but often, it's messy for less time that way.

dubiousMa said...

LOL...I also am anal-Mom. I blame my mother. One kid I have and she is only allowed to play outside in the summer and she can do whatever she wants out there....provided she knows that she will be HOSED DOWN before re-entering the house...and the hose water is cold! There are no arts and crafts, no baking, nothing of the sort. Play-doh? Over my dead body....(I should watch my back). She's gonna be like me, I think.

Katie in MA said...

I am somewhere between you and my mom on the messy messes scale. But oh DEAR GOD I wish parents would parent. Gives me a stroke every time.

Anonymous said...

The only thing that would have kept me from hyperventilating would be remembering that bleachy, hot, soapy water exist, and as I looked through the book, I could say to the worker, "You know if you could get me a clean dishcloth wet with hot, soapy, bleachy water, I'll wipe off the pages as I go." Wiping would make me feel better about life, I'm afraid. Wow! Do these crazy genes just come with the mothering territory?

bejewell said...

I've never gotten the whole nail-the-cake-book-to-the-counter thing. The remote in the hotel room, okay, yeah, I can *sort of* get that. But the cake book? It's not the Book of Shadows, for pete's sake.

I think it's time for the cake people to go high tech. An online catalog wouldn't hurt anyone.

Live.Love.Eat said...

Ohmagosh, you're just as funny as I remembered...

Mrs. G. said...

I am the only one in my family who likes icecream cake in a family of chocolate lovers, so guess what?
I don't even think I have to tell you.

No email in site Tootsie. Will you email me at heaz@live.com