Mommy Roofie

So i’m minding my own business at the grocery store when it happens. All by myself, i feel the need to go down the baby aisle in case there’s something i might need.

My kid is 2. There’s nothing in a baby aisle i need from the grocery store… except maybe an overpriced sippy cup the pediatrician will tell me she’s too big for when we go for her well check next week. I always have an urge to buy an ice pack. I know full well neither child will allow one near their body when they are actually injured. The piercing scream of frigid cold and just wanting to hold the pack flashes in my brain each time and i just walk away. As i near the end of the aisle, I am bombarded by what i now refer to as Mommy Roofies. I inhaled baby powder, and it assaulted my brain into giving me the fleeting thought of “awwwww, babies. another baby would be ..”  MENTAL SLAP

Thank god the next aisle is all cleaning products because the next scent of bleach and cleaner erased all insane, comical thoughts of any more DNA running around the house in the form of a human being from my obviously injured brain.

I am done. No more kids!!

But damned if that overpowering scent of clean baby butts a’la baby powder didn’t temporarily disable my quasi-functional intelligent mind. quasi.

It doesn’t help that my youngest, my second, my angel, is turning 2 in 5 days. Somehow i allowed my husband to talk me into a birthday party the weekend before her actual birthday, and not after.

I have to deal with her turning two TWICE.

Only a husband would see zero problemo with that scenario.

I would say it might be an issue if i didn’t have a nearly full half bottle of vodka in the freezer right now. Whether or not that bottle will make it to Saturday i have no idea.

So a word to you moms who think you are done; avoid the baby aisle and ESPECIALLY the full power baby powder. At the very least, only venture down if you know you can make it to the bleach in less than 30 seconds. That’s the amount of time it takes for the thought to travel to your ovaries. Once that thought takes hold down there, there’s no turning back. Just ask my daughter.