Not permitted

We have permits now for the work about to be done on our house. It took two trips to the office; one to get the paperwork and another to return it. The first trip that Little Bird and I took to the office took a long time because the permits lady was being incredibly helpful. And I don't say that sarcastically. She really was helpful.

The whole time she was meticulously gathering every scrap of paperwork I needed to obtain a permit from the city to even pee in my own yard, I was chasing Bird around the empty waiting room. He was intently interested in the goldfish and the telephone. He refused to be held, and I didn't have the stroller. He also enjoyed the water bottle they had on the floor by the front window - I guess to water their plants.

I kept retrieving him and trying to give him something else to be interested in, but he just kept going back to that damn phone. After every apology I issued to the lady helping me, she would say, "That's alright. He's not hurting anything." Still, I kept him under a tight thumb, because it was a place of business.

Today, I returned with moola and all the paperwork filled in. I also had my Babyhawk in tow. Before we went in the office, I strapped Bird onto my back and handed him his most favorite toy as of Sunday, the wand for the bubbles. He was so much easier to contain while strapped onto my back in his baby straightjacket.

It took forever because of the new lady at the office and because they stop to do whatever else in the middle of what they were already doing. Which is inefficient and annoying. It bugs me when I'm standing right there and yet three phone calls that came in after me get their attention away from what they were doing for me. That's what the hold button is for, people.

After everything was finally completed and we were about to leave, the woman who helped us on the first visit begins to tell me how much cuter my child was today. I honestly thought maybe his hair was brushed or she liked his shirt better or something. I wasn't sure, but then she said,

"Yes Sir, you are much cuter today than you were when you were tearing up my waiting room. I'm glad I don't have to spend all that time cleaning up after you today."

Um, WHAT? Did you seriously just say that to me and my baby? First of all, he didn't tear anything up in the waiting room. I wouldn't allow that. Second of all, I moved the telephone and the water bottle so that he couldn't reach them anymore, and I put them back just like I found them before we left. I even took a once around the room before leaving to make sure that everything was in it's place.

I replied to her, "I'm sure that I put everything back before we left, but I'm sorry that he bothered you."

Then she just said how much cuter he was again.

I guess I really am too sensitive, but she pissed me off. He's a baby for crying out loud. Babies get into things. He's curious and loves to explore. He was just being a baby. And I was just being a mama - balancing letting him be a baby with making sure that we were respectful to their workplace.

There is only one thing I know for sure, and it is that THAT woman? Doesn't have children. And I just deleted the nasty reason why I could have written. I'll keep that to myself.