A Ranting I Go

I know I've mentioned this before, but I have to bring it up again because it keeps happening. And it really bothers me. The comments. The completely brainless, hurtful, ignorant comments. They just keep coming. And I really don't get it. Why do people feel they can say whatever pops into their heads? And why do they feel they can ask a stranger a personal question? What is that?

This time the offenders were at Wal-mart (go figure), but it could have just as easily been at the grocery store, at a restaurant, or at a park.

After my glasses collapsed in my hands yesterday I realized I had to bite the bullet and buy a new pair. I usually avoid Wal-mart like the plague, but I am just too cheap to buy glasses anywhere else, so off we went.
The ever-so-helpful (can you hear the sarcasm in that?) employee in the optical center spent approximately 10 minutes watching me try on glasses and talking to my boys when she says, "Wow. Three boys. Are they all yours?"

"Nope. Just found them outside. Lucky, huh?" I wanted to say. But I didn't.

"Um. Yeah. They're all mine." I said with a snarky laugh. I mean, she was standing right next to me listening to them calling me mom this whole time. We were talking about their birthdays, favorite colors, and cartoons. Hell-O!??!

"Are you gonna try for a girl?" she asks me, right in front of my gorgeous boys.

"No. I might try for another baby, but it is up to God to decide if we get a boy or a girl, and I'll take what I can get." I said giving her the evil eye.

I couldn't help it. I didn't want to sound bitchy and mean, but these comments make me crazy! I can't believe people are willing to ask strangers these questions. I think my response finally gave her a clue to shut her yap and ring up my flipping glasses before I really lost it, because after that she didn't say much.

We left the optical center and wandered around the Easter aisles as a treat to the boys for being so well behaved. When we were done sniffing all the Easter chocolates and fingering all the stuffed animals I remembered that were out of oranges and milk. I quickly grabbed what we needed and began looking for an open register. I wheeled the cart around the corner of the check-out and approached the cashier.

The first thing out of her loud mouth was, "Oh My God! Look at ALL THOSE KIDS!"

I furrowed my brow, looked behind me to see if she was talking to someone else and then said, "Are you serious? There are three. Not twelve! How is three a lot of kids?"

She says, "Well, it is three more than I have!"

I just rolled my eyes. I kept my head down and my mouth shut, and got out of there as fast as I could.

Whatever. I am so done with these comments. I get them all the time. You'd think I would be used to it by now, but I'm not. It catches me off guard every time. I always think of smart, sassy comebacks after I've calmed down, but in the moment I just stand there wide-eyed with my jaw on the floor. Shocked at people's thoughtlessness.

I think one of the worst ones was when my hubby and I stopped at a restaurant with our boys on the way up north to the cabin. We walked past the bar and heard a man bellow to his wife loudly enough for the whole room to hear, "Look at those blond kids. Those two have dark hair. I wonder whose kids those are 'cause they sure aren't THEIRS!"

I wanted to run over and scream at him. I wanted to tell him that even though I gave birth to my kids sometimes people adopt children, and maybe the children don't look like them, but those children are just as much theirs as if the same blood ran in their veins. I wanted to tell him how hurtful his comment could be to someone who is worried about what ignorant arses like him think. I wanted to rush home, grab the pics of me as a baby, and show him my blond curly hair. I wanted to tell him that this dark brown hair is not my natural color. I wanted to smack him in his freaking face. I wanted to, but of course, I didn't. Because it wouldn't have done any good.

People just don't think.

Just this month I've heard:

"You're crazy!"- for having 3 boys fabulous boys.

"It looks like your pushing a freaking bus."- said in an under-the-breath, evil-eyed way when I was pushing my well behaved boys through the grocery store in their car cart.

"You need a hobby." Nice. I don't even know what to say to this one.

"You want more kids?" If you knew my kids you would want more of them too.

"Are you gonna keep trying until you get a girl?" Why, are they better?
Sigh.

I know I shouldn't let these ridiculous comments bother me, but they do. My boys have ears. They hear these comments too. Are they supposed to think that I am crazy for having them? Or that maybe I would rather have girls? How are these comments supposed to make them feel?

Does anyone else have this same problem? What is the most annoying comment you get? And what do you do? What do you say? Do you just smile politely and move on, or do you send them a zinger? Because truthfully, I wouldn't mind handing out a few zings every now and again. If I had a few good ones. Do you have some zingers for me?