
Josh and I were at the checkout counter at Victoria's Secret today with Jack in his stroller next to us. The store was pretty crowded, and the line was very long. While the woman was ringing us up, another cashier opened up next to us. I saw her getting her cash register set up, so I scooted the stroller in a little closer to the counter. The sales girl who had just opened called out to the next woman line, but the woman ignored her. She again tried to get her attention, and the woman turned to her and said, in a loud exaggerated voice, "oh, I can't...there's a stroller in my way" (somehow managing to make "stroller" sound like an expletive). I couldn't believe what I had just heard. I turned to double check that my stroller was in fact well out of the pathway, and then looked at her, incredulous. I turned back around and shared a "can you believe she just said that" look with the sales girls and the other customers in line. Josh asked me if I wanted him to take the stroller outside. By this point I was really pissed. I said (loudly) that our stroller and our baby were fine right where they were and that we weren't going to move them. Thank goodness Josh was there to tell me to calm down. I seriously wanted to rip the woman's throat out. The cashier handled it without batting an eye. She just turned to the next people in line, and asked if they would like to checkout. They (all four of them) walked easily by the stroller with room to spare.
On the way home I was trying to figure out why this silly incident made me so upset. I guess I'm still feeling a little awkward about taking Jack out places - what with all of the gear that I have to schlep along (carseat, stroller, diaper bag, etc.) for even the simplest of outings. Plus, I feel fiercely protective of my baby. And while this horrible little shrew of a woman didn't exactly insult him, she came too close for my comfort.
*Note* The above shown photo is not of the actual woman described in my post, but at least in my mind this is pretty much what she looked like.

















