19 Nov

I’m a bit mad today. Still. Remnants of yesterday. Want to hear why?

Well, yesterday we went to the Diaper Club. It’s run by the base, so all military parents and children. There was some kind of party, not sure because I don’t get the e-mails, even though I tried to join the stupid yahoo group three times!! That’s a different story though. Anyway, the little turtle was running around, having a whale of a time. I was playing blocks with other people’s children. And I hear “Hey! Hey! Hey! Get away! Get!” (think of how you would shout at a dog, if it were trying to take food off of a small child). The little turtle was going up to a small boy, about his age who had a cookie. He wasn’t doing anything to him. Just looking. Interested in seeing what he was eating, or whatever (did I say I have the nosiest child I’ve ever seen?) And he gets shooed away like a dog. I was soo mad. Mad enough not to be able to react. As well as that, the guy was in uniform and I have yet to overcome my awe fear respect regard for people in uniform (like I used to be with doctors and teachers, before I realised they were just people too and just as fallible as the rest of us). So I have spent the last 24 hours (on-and-off, you understand) formulating a response in my head! It goes like this

“Excuse me, was that my son you were talking to? …Well I would appreciate it if you didn’t speak to him like that again. He’s a small human being, not a dog, and should be treated as such. What you do with your own son is your own business, but I won’t have mine talked to like that, by anyone.”

Then maybe stomp away, indignantly. Without falling over or tripping.  I think if we had been anywhere else, and he hadn’t been in uniform I would have said it. Or something along those lines, any variations being the result of not having 24 hours to mull it over. See, the main problem is that I don’t know what’s appropriate when it comes to things associated with the hubby’s work. My military wife handbook has yet to arrive! And if it ever does, I am quite likely to ignore it. I told the hubby about this incident and he got quite mad, trying to identify the guy by asking me loads of questions. Man in uniform is what he got out of me. My powers of observation are not the best. I have yet to get used to looking at people’s chests to see what their names are. I look at their shoulders for their rank, without knowing what they mean (maybe that’s in the handbook?). I don’t want the hubby to do anything though. Like get the guy in trouble. I need to grow a  backbone and deal with these things myself, which he says I can do, but no shouting! I told him I don’t shout at strangers, only him, you see the regard for men in uniform doesn’t seem to extend to him, how would it, when I’m the one washing his uniforms and tripping over his boots? But I also have to be careful about who I give a piece of my mind to. You never know who you’re talking to. Eggshells and whatnot. Oh well, I suppose I’ll get used to all of this seething. Or my head will explode.One or the other.


One Response to “Seething”

  1. Heartful blogger November 20, 2009 at 10:45 am #

    Oooooo, I’d have been fuming too. How rude!! I can totally understand your being torn between saying something and not wanting to do the wrong thing.

    Thanks for your comment on my blog, nice to find another BLWer in blogland, have added you to my blogroll.

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