Bitch-Slapped

Blogger ate my post, so this is a re-post, which is probably just a pale shadow of the original post, which I can assure you was full of awesome.

Today I took the kids to a "Paint the Town" event at the library.  Based on the name I figured that the library had wised up and was going to use child labor to re-paint benches and shit.  Or that it would at least have something to do with graffiti.  But neither thing was true.  It was just painting on big pieces of paper on tablecloth covered tables.  Paint the town my ass, the only thing that got painted was Max's front teeth and my left thigh. 

But whatever, the kids feigned interest for about 5 minutes, then I let them change into their swimsuits and hit the fountain.  That's what they really wanted to do anyway.  And I have to admit that hanging out in the shade by the fountain was far better than dodging an army of 3-year-olds wielding large plastic cups of tempera paint.  So we played in the fountain.  I chatted with friends, chased after my son and tried to keep Molly from barking at strangers.  We were all having a pretty good time.

Until I got bitch-slapped by a mentally disabled person.  No, really.  I was standing in the middle of the Ped Mall, threatening my son gently requesting my son return to the fountain and stop loitering outside the Sheraton.  Suddenly I felt something hit my upper arm and shoulder, so I turned to look (I so thought it was a bird, which would have freaked me out, 'cause I really hate birds) and I got slapped in the face, well, more batted in the face, it wasn't really an open-handed slap. 

After slapping me, he/she (I'm not being shitty, I really could not tell if this person was male or female) just kept walking, trying to keep up with his/her companion.  I didn't do anything, well, except utter a few really choice swear words; I was just in shock.  I am glad I registered that this person was disabled, though.  Because if I had hit back or caused a scene of some sort there's no way I would have ever lived that one down.  Not to mention that I would have probably felt like a total asshole.  I do wish that I had said something to the companion because I'm not even sure she saw it happen.  She seemed far too busy just rushing about 10 steps ahead of the person she was being paid to take care of and that's not cool.  Especially considering the person she takes care of is clearly a hitter (unless it was just something about me that made her lash out, which is entirely possible).

The upside of the mauling (melodramatic much?) was that it knocked me out of my bad mood.  I was in a seriously craptacular mood all morning.  I didn't wake up that way, and nothing happened to cause it, it just crept up on me at some point.  Fortunately it wasn't the kind of bad mood in which I spend all day being pissy and snapping at everyone.  It was the kind of bad mood in which I just keep a running list of every single thing that has annoyed me all day long (quietly seethe).  I even debated posting my list, but I didn't.  I probably would if asked, though.  At least a few of the big things.

Anyway, bad mood gone, I was able to really enjoy the rest of the day.  The kids and I had a picnic lunch in the ped mall, and then we went for a walk.  Maggie fell asleep in the stroller and Max fell asleep on my back in his carrier, so I was able to treat Molly to a juice box (Max can't have them, he squirts them everywhere) and myself to a Blue Sky soda (oh how I love thee) at the Bread Garden.  We had a great time.

Then we went home, where it seems the dog enjoyed his own "Paint the Town" event.  All over the living room.  At least he kept it on the hard surfaces (mostly) and contained to one room.