If I’m the Diplomat, We’re Doomed

Jessica has always said that I’m the diplomat in the family. To be specific, she has on many occasions said that I am TOO diplomatic. I suppose I’ve always worn the description of being diplomatic as a badge of honor. I believe that 99% of the issues in the world can be solved with respectful discourse with the skills required not just being the ability to present your viewpoint without insulting the other, but also understanding that of the other side.

And then today happened.

I don’t know if it was the fact that my friend passed away, the fact that our family has gone through a “small” change or two, the lack of sleep, or a combination of it all, but today I just plain woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

When I woke up at 8:00 am (yes, you read that right), I was the first one up. The three new additions were spending the weekend with their mom since this will be the last chance they’ll get for this until March, and we just had the two kids. I’m sure that some of our friends who have more than five kids (and it’s weird to think that we have so many friends who have more than five kids) think we’re rank amateurs with *only* five. But, with the three gone, it *almost* felt as though we had no kids last night. We got Eli and Brenna to bed and it was almost too easy. I guess it’s all relative.

So, back to waking up at 8:00. I got out of bed and immediately read about Lorin which immediately put me in a bit of a funk.

Everyone was up and about within 30 minutes. Jessica was getting ready to go with her friend Shannon to help with her daughter’s birthday and just hang out for the weekend. Meanwhile, I was to take Eli and Brenna, and our friends with their kids to see Walking with Dinosaurs at the local Bradley Center. After Shannon came and whisked Jessica away I fed the kids (we were really running late) and then they went upstairs to hang out and watch “Goosebumps” (Brenna’s latest favorite Netflix programing).

As an aside, while I was downstairs, Brenna came down and happened to pick up on the fact that I was not my usual upbeat self (I am blown away at how intuitive kids can be). She asked me what was wrong and when I told her that my friend had died, she said to me, “at least you still have us!” Yes, Boo. Yes I do.

At about 12:30, I ran to go pick ‘A’ up for the show. We got back home and waited for our friends to show up and then we drove down to the Center. We got there about 10 minutes before the show started which is great timing when you have six kids with you.

The show was really well done and we were having a great time. Then intermission came and I decided to go get popcorn for the kids. Brenna wanted to come with me, so up at the concession I asked for 5 popcorns and since Brenna wanted a cheeseburger, I ordered one for her.

$25.00 later, I was told I had to wait for the cheeseburger and was given three popcorns. I assumed that the other two needed to be popped so I waited patiently. And waited. And waited. 10 minutes had passed and when another person came up and ordered a popcorn and was told they were out, I knew there was a problem. And I still had not gotten the $6.75 cheeseburger yet. I was starting to get concerned, so I asked the order taker where my other two popcorns were and she gave me a blank stare. She then called a manager over and a minute later, she explained to me that they needed to refund me on two popcorns, but that my cheeseburger would be right up. Meanwhile, I could hear that the show had started back up.

I lost it. I won’t go into detail as to what I said, but it was along the lines of, “I can’t believe there are 100 people back there and not a single one of you can pop popcorn or make a frickin’ cheeseburger.”

Thank goodness I don’t use four letter words.

I made the poor girl cry.

I didn’t stop.

I waited another five minutes and told them that I was taking Brenna back to her seat and would come back for the cheeseburger. I was told it would be just another minute.

Two minutes later, I let into them again. And then, I got hit with the brick of reality.

“And I’m getting mad, too!”

That was what she said. My little four-year old girl watched it all and decided that it was perfectly ok for her to get upset, too.

I then apologized to Brenna and explained that I was not behaving properly, turned to the girl behind the counter and explained to her how sorry I was and that while I was frustrated I recognize that they work really hard. She said she didn’t blame me. None the less, I was out of line. But it doesn’t change the fact that today, when it came to setting an example, I did it in spades. I set a perfect example of how NOT to act.

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