Monday, November 17, 2008


Eight weeks ago, Good Joo miraculously brought baby B into this delightful world. Good Joo has since spent most days recovering from the obvious (the magic that is the birthing process) and the not-so-obvious (a kidney stone and surgery to remove said behemoth kidney stone ). Good Joo has learned that it is never a good thing when the ER doc giggles at the size of your stone (not to be confused with stones, as in "My hubby's got him some huge stones") and remarks, "you'll neeeevvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrr be able to pass that." In addition to the aforementioned, The Good Joo House has been afflicted by the flu, and a strept throat like virus. In short, Good Joo has been knocked on her ass.

For some reason, despite A developing symptoms of the above-mentioned illnesses, Good Joo recently decided she could not take her house of fetid skank for one more second. She therefore loaded a fairly ill A and a fat, happy B into the car to "go for a drive." Now, Good Joo hadn't been out of the house in eight weeks, and she just can't resist the fantastic shopping in Ft. Pain. This should not be surprising to any reader, since, according to the powers that be at Good Joo's husband's place of employment (who lured The Good Joo Family to Fort Gay), Ft. Wayne is known for its shopping and restaurants.

Still, after twenty-four hours with nary a fever in the house and eight long, long weeks living the life of a shut-in, Good Joo needed out. Bad shopping or not, The Good Joo was going in.

Upon arriving at the shopping mall, A immediatly made a bee line for the playground of filth. Good Joo determined this to be an okay move for two reasons: 1. A performed an unsolicited rendition of "Applebottom Jeans" in the parking lot, which surely gave her the right to do whatever she pleased for 24 hours; and 2. the germs A was sporting surely either originated from or were already sprinkled about said playground.

All was well and good until, in the distance, Good Joo heard a squawking. And it was not good. And it appeared to be coming from a mother gazing in A's direction. Said mother clearly had not received the memo that A could do whatever she wanted for the day by reasons of a successful hip hop parking lot rendition AND fatal illness. Good Joo moved closer to A's location, the top of the tree slide.

Squawker: You can't just sit there
A: (coughing up 1-2 lungs, staring at Squawker, is concerned).
Squawker: (increasingly annoyed) If you aren't going to go, then get down .
A: (still coughing, now with respiratory droplets shooting out randomly)
Squawker (clearly using her best pedagogy): Hello? Get out of the way.
J: (oh no you didn't).
A: (looking desperately at Good Joo)

By this time, Squawker's son had begun fitting around behind A and trying to push his way through. Have any of you ever seen True Blood on HBO? Or watched any vampire type shows? Then you know how fast a vampire mother moves. Squawker felt a cold, cold breath on her neck. She turned, and 1cm from her face was Good Joo Gone Bad. Think the gates of Hell. Think The Exorcist. Think Satan. Think your worst nightmare, and then think of it all up in your shit.

J: (Fetid, rotten, exorcist like breath enveloping the Squawker, Good Joo's head begins spinning counterclockwise, the voice of Ghostbuster's Zool comes forth) DO NOT SPEAK UNTO MY CHILD, VILE HUMAN.
Squawker: She is hogging the slide!
Squawker: You shouldn't bring her here if she is sick.
J: (Slipping back into mortal, p'd off mode) You shouldn't bring your son here if he is gonna be such a pansy ass and can't wait two seconds to receive all of the germ infested spittle my daughter wishes to spew into his mucous membranes.
Squawker: (walks away).

Now, the Good Joo is sure that ten days of narcotics did not help this Joo's rational thinking, and, perhaps, the "drive" wasn't such a good idea afterall. But, really. Don't f*** with the Joo or her darling offspring.

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