You know when strangers ask you ridiculous questions and, at first you don’t mind, but after you’ve fielded the question fifty or so times you begin to get peeved?
Well, I’ve begun to get peeved.
It’s not uncommon for cashiers, salespeople, and random strangers to ask me questions about my son, or my daughter, or my younger son, when we’re out and about. And perhaps it’s me who makes the mistake of volunteering information that both enables and encourages such ridiculous exchanges. One particular question, however, has begun to pluck my strings for whatever reason, so I’ve decided to formulate a few responses, to, well, shake things up a bit.
This is usually how it goes:
Matthew, at register: “Hi! Hi! (making register sounds) Boop! Boop! Thank you!”
Cashier: “Oh! He’s cute! Can I give him a sticker?”
Me, thinking about how and from whence I will have to remove the damned thing: “Sure! Stickers are his favorite!”
Cashier, giving him a sticker: “How old is he?”
Me, making my repeated fatal error: “He’s twenty-seven months. I also have fourteen-month-old twins.”
Cashier, looking around fearfully: “Well, where are they?”
First, I swallow my aggravation like a mouthful of jagged, stale pizza crust, and then explain that they are a) at home with Dada, b) at Grammy’s, c) at Auntie’s, or d) some permutation thereof. I then continue about how difficult it is to travel and/or shop with three children aged two and under, outline the logistics of said travel, and highlight the blatant impossibility of actually roving a store with all of my children and items in a carriage. And then we laugh, and I walk outside, where I am free to roll my eyes and mumble under my breath all the way to the car.
But, as you can see, it’s my fault. Completely. For all they know (except the people in Babies R Us, who know I have three), I have one. Just him. And I could (and probably should) keep up that ruse when we go out. I don’t know why I don’t.
I imagine the driving force is probably guilt, though. Perhaps, deep down, I feel like I should be able to explore far and wide, picking up industrial size boxes of diapers and toilet paper and Lysol wipes as I go, juggling three ornery toddlers with varied appetites, temperaments, and tolerances for being in public, on a unicycle, up and down the aisles, like a circus performer. Perhaps I feel guilty that I can’t push two (or three) carts at once, struggling through the store, holding my Mom Card out in front of my face the whole time.
That said, I think the easiest thing to do is just put it all on them.
So, when I’m feeling particularly spicy, or just sat in traffic for an hour, or forgot to get gas, or, you know, once I finally snap, I’ve decided on a few things to say:
They’re in the car. Don’t worry. It’s running, and all the windows are up.
Who?
No hablo Inglés.
Right here, in the carriage. Say hi to the lady, guys!
They’re at home, asleep. I usually get back before they wake up.
My husband got them in the divorce. Him and his slutbag girlfriend. That filthy, no-good, two-timing bastard…
Well, the last time I saw them, I was in Housewares…
What are you, the FBI??
(Burst into tears and run out the door)
The fire station. They have that dropoff, right? Free babysitting! (Hold out fist to knuckle bump the cashier)
Dammit! I KNEW I forgot something!
Poachers.
My attorney advised me not to answer this question.
I found this GREAT nanny on Craigslist! Let’s hope it works out!
The (air quotes) state said I was (air quotes) unfit. They don’t know I kept this one. Shhh…
Jury duty.
Ok, fine. I admit, it’s part my stupidity, part theirs. But really. Where are they? At the corner of Nunya Business and Do Your Job. Seriously.
I love this. I tend to just refer people to my FAQ now (http://www.streamdoubletrouble.com/faq/). Of course that creates it’s own set of funny looks. But then I just pretend I have to chase after a twin. Oh wait – that part’s not pretend…
Ha! I should just hand them one of my cards. Brilliant!
Ahahahaha! I do this all the time. I do a lot of my shopping on the weekend when Ally is with her dad. Then it’s always ‘I have a 3 year old too’ ‘Where is she?’
In the trunk. She’s in the trunk. Jeez!
Poachers! YES!
I’m surprised the second question isn’t “Were your twins an ACCIDENT?” which is what people automatically assume when kids are more or less than the socially acceptable three years apart.
Ha! What I usually get is, “WHAT were you THINKING!?!” Which is just as kind.
I like Jury Duty the best.
I mean, someone’s gotta do it, right?
I’m one of those people who really wants Jury Duty. I was called once, but the case never went to trial. It was a huge bummer. I was really excited.
Those are great. I imagine you get just as many stupid questions when you take your twins out in public. Let me guess. “Are they twins?”
I get, “Are they triplets?” which is, by far, THE dumbest thing one could ask. Yeah. One just hung out up there for an extra year, grew all his teeth, learned to talk, then came out with the other two. Jackasses.
i have this overshare guilt problem too. when I’m out with one twin, i always feel compelled to say “he’s/she’s a twin”. which then brings on the stupid questions!
I think it’s definitely guilt. Like I’m getting away with something if I walk out without acknowledging my other children. Sometimes I wish I had less conscience.
Ninth graders today after taking a quiz, “Should we turn these in or not?” My sarcastic reply, “No, why would we want to turn in a quiz? That is silly.” Same kid responds, “So I should put my name on it?” OMG.
HA! It must be SO hard not to answer them the way you want to!
love it, I have French pupils asking “are you sure?” when I give them the English word they ask for; “no, I made it up so you look stupid next time you speak English in public”
Like Punk’d for foreigners. I like it.
Ha! I can’t believe so many people ask you that. I just like to pretend I only have one (or two) when I go out. I like the “right here in the carriage” one. Snort!
I bet they’d stop asking questions after that lol.
I also liked the “right here in the carriage.” Duh – can’t you see them?
Lots of crazy people in this state. Still, would be fun…
The jury duty one was funny. Some of the other answers might get you a visit with Child Protective Services.
I’d be willing to roll the dice…
Awesomeness =D When I’m out with my crew (my two kids, two VERY fair skinned kids, one obviously Asian kid, and one Italian kid – four of whom are 1 month apart in age) someone invariably asks me if they’re all mine. Next time? I’m going to answer “Yes”.
Although I don’t have multiples, I too have a collection of inane questions I was asked when my three were very young. My favourite stupid question of all time related to a birthmark on my son’s neck. Some incredibly misguided, insensitive person actually asked me, “What did you do to his neck?”
I hope you asked what they did with their tact.
I was at the store one time and the cashier gave me the standard, “How are you today?” Well, it had been a particularly frustrating shopping experience, so I’d sent my husband out to the car with the kids. So my reply to the cashier was, “Great, I had 3 kids with me when I came in.” Her face was priceless! She didn’t know whether to look around or call the manager. I didn’t offer any further info either. I just like to mess with them sometimes.
“But since I locked them in the car, I’m having such a great time…”
Wait till they start with the twin question(s):Are they twins? How old is this one? And how old is this one? I am a twin and this happened ALL the time to my sister and I growing up. No joke.
Oh, oh, you’re a little late on that one! They’ve been doing that, well, for 14 months now. Except they think I have triplets.
You are not alone! Ever since my oldest daughter N (now 4 years old) was born, I’ve frequented our local bookstore — usually on Saturday, since I work during the week. One day while working from home when I decided to take a (rare!) break and treat myself to a trip the bookstore, just to quietly browse some adult titles for a change. ALONE. It was the first time I had done that in years and it felt positively liberating.
As I browsed the shelves, I was giddy with exhilaration — until the store owner came up to me and said, “What?! Where’s your daughter?” Feeling guilt wash over me, I responded, “At preschool.” And she said, “What?! At this hour??” My face turned bright crimson and I didn’t know what to say.
Thanks to the inspiration of your clever list, now I do: “Dammit!! I knew I forgot something!!”
I have an 8yr old, a 3 yr old (four in a month) and triplets that will turn 2 in August. I very, very rarely go out with everyone. Totally understand these questions. I love it when “professionals” ask these questions. My dentist asks everytime where my triplets are. I always answer, “We left them at home. Don’t worry, our 3 yr old is there to make sure everything is ok.” Also, I always get asked if the trips were a surprise. Is that a way to ask if I got invetro?? Not that would be bad, but my story is after my husband having cancer and being told we (by that, I mean him) would be infertile, I got off BC and a couple of months later, I was planning arrival of DD 3, 4, and 5. So, yeah! I know the fustration and guilt of these questions. On last note, at a pedi’s visit, a new mom saw my brood said, “I would say they were cute, but I would hate to wish that upon myself.” Wow, could you have waited till I was out of earshot for that one?? Ahhh, some people!!!!!
Ha! Ooh! That was rough! Yeah, I get, “Well, I’m glad I’m not you,” a lot. Me too, lady! I’m glad you’re not me, too! Pllbbtttt!