I could be writing to you from jail.

Because last night, I almost killed someone. For real.

Allow me to set the stage...

The VeeDubs were shopping at our local Meijer store, filling our carts with various items needed for the week ahead. We had just entered the laundry soap aisle and Alex was squealing with delight because we had just given him a Dum Dum sucker to occupy his time and energy.

A spinster in her late 30s rounded the corner and due to a large structure pole of the building and the exact placement of our cart ('buggy' for my East Coast readers) she couldn't get down the aisle.

Joe moved our cart, and just as she passed us Alex squealed again - a cheerful (and loud, I will admit) cry of delight because HE was special enough to get strawberry sugar on a stick from his Momma.

The woman (henceforth referred to as GB=giant bitch) rolled her eyes so far back into her head and threw her hands in the air while audibly scowling with disgust, "I am SO glad I don't have kids."

Oh, GB. You now have Momma Bear's full attention. GAME ON.

My quick-as-a-mousetrap husband beat me to the punch and retorted, "Well, that's probably a good thing because it sounds like you wouldn't be very good at it."

She scooted past us as I responded to Joey (loud enough so she could hear), "Well, she is a delightfully cherry old maid, isn't she?"

After about an 8 second pregnant pause, GB offered another nugget of brilliance, "It looks like you two aren't very good at it either."

I SWEAR TO CHEEZ-ITS, if Joey had not literally pysically restrained me by my arm at that moment, I would have lunged at her jugular and knocked her out cold with a value size bottle of Tide.

I have never, ever, ever been so livid in all my days. How DARE she judge me or my husband and our parenting skills? Alex was not bothering anyone. He was not hitting, punching, cursing, screaming with anger or even running around wildly. He was sitting like a superstar in the front of the cart, nomming on a sucker with the excitement of a two year old little boy. And it's not like we were in the friggin' library. It was a motherflipping supermarket--full of energy, noises, people & families. If you want a sound-proof and uninterrupted shopping experience, get on Alice.com or hire it done. Or wear your headphones like my weird normal sister used to do. Whatever works. But don't get your panties in a bunch when my child is being all kinds of adorable and fun and not disturbing ANYONE but himself.

Even as I type this, my blood pressure is rising...

GB should count her lucky stars we didn't run into her again. I would have either kicked her in the face after I went to the shoe department and put on some spiky cleats or kindly asked her to have a hysterectomy and go home to her cats to live the rest of her days in misery. Or maybe both. I just can't be sure.