I can't put my pants on by myself.

I have always considered myself to be a fairly smart girl.  I have had the occasional lapse in judgement.  For example, the first time I went skiing it went something like this- 

boyfriend - "I'll teach you"

me- "ok"

boyfriend- "Do this"

me- " Hey I just tore my ACL.  Sorry cute ski patrol guy that is cutting my pants off - I didn't shave my legs."   

As you can see, usually my bad decisions are compound bad decisions (and often involve boys - go figure).  Despite this, people don't typically treat me like an idiot.  Until today.  At the Home Depot.  I needed to buy some moulding (which I cut on the mitre saw by myself  - and the corners are perfect thank you very much).  Anyway, they have those big open carts at Home Depot especially designed for carrying 12 foot lengths of moulding, and they say "DO NOT RIDE ON CART" all over them.  I have a two year old boy - he rode on the cart.  

As soon as I hit the door from the parking lot it started.  I was greeted with "He can't ride on that cart". (Another employee actually speed walked across the parking lot to tell me this as well.)  I told them that they didn't need to worry about it because he was my kid not theirs and I wasn't going to sue them if he fell the (literally) 6 inches to the floor.  Greeter/Rule Enforcer was not impressed.  So he climbed down and I said - " I'm sure it's going to be safer for him to be running through your store while I wrangle this big moulding carrier cart."

Everytime I stopped, my son climbed on the cart -  and like some little safety patrol drop out, a Home Depot employee was there, looking very grave and insisting that I save him from certain doom.  Seriously Home Depot - I grew up riding in a van that didn't even come with seat belts... and I drove ...when I was 9...while sitting on my dad's lap.  Your low rider carts do not strike fear into the heart of this girl.

So finally I make it to the parking lot (after pointing out to the "see you later" lady that since I needed both hands to steer the cart, it would be more dangerous for my two year old to be running loose in the parking lot than hitching a ride with my moulding.)  I start loading my moulding into the back of my father- in-law's really big truck and I realize that it's hanging out the back.  So, because I know these things, I start looking for something to use as a flag to mark the end of the moulding.  AS I AM LOOKING FOR A FLAG - some random man comes up to me to tell me that I need to mark the end of the moulding with a flag.  Poor, poor man.  "Yes - I know" I said with my hands on my hips and not a very nice look on my face "what is it about people today?  Why does everyone think they need to tell me what to do?"  (I will let you play my voice in your head - use your imagination).

Apparently he did not know the answer to this question, because he just looked at me.  Maybe he thought that if he didn't move I wouldn't be able to see him - like those dinosaurs in Jurassic Park.  Come to think of it, I can't remember where he went.  Maybe he's still standing there, holding really still and wondering what was wrong with the crazy, angry, hostile - but not stupid - lady at the Home Depot.