just letters

the one about the little old lady and the lubricating oil

dear silly girl,

people will say anything to me. i’m slowly beginning to realize this.

yesterday we took a short trip to the grocery store because, as usual, we ran out of milk. being that it’s your life force, we must have it at all times.

but let me back up a little bit.

we had a glorious day of play. after being outside and getting all nice and sweaty, you had been playing in my finger nail polish. {i rationalize that it’s good for your hand-eye coordination.} we both looked homeless. rat’s nest on top of my head, barbecue sauce on your shirt. you would think that i would at least look in the mirror before going out in public, but sometimes i forget.

anyway, so we went to the store. your new favorite past time since being potty trained is being a bathroom inspector. whether you actually have to go or not, you tell me that you have to potty just so we can check out the public restroom. oh joy of all joys.

so of course, we no more than pull in the parking lot before you announce that you’ve gotta pee. we bob and weave {due to our fabulous good looks} all through the store until we reach the bathroom at the back. we go in, get you all stripped down, i help you onto the potty, and… nothing. false alarm. just a bathroom inspection.

after getting you completely dressed again from the waist down, it’s hand washing time. but we are not alone.

i cover your hands in soap and play charades with the faucet to get it to turn on. and then we begin to wash.

this entire time, there is an older lady of about 80 years old standing at the sink. she is adorable in her blue jeans, t-shirt, and perfectly drawn in eyebrows. she looks normal.

she notices your nail art, as we like to call it.

“have you been in your mama’s nail polish?” she asks.

you are enthralled with the faucet that turns itself on and ignore her. so it’s my turn.

“yes, ma’am,” i answer.

and then it starts.

“what is that oil?” she says to herself, scratching her head.

i’m in the dark on how nail polish got us to oil so i keep helping you wash your hands. she continues to think out loud.

“it’s not mineral oil. and it’s not baby oil because that’s poisonous if swallowed.”

i still have no idea what she’s talking about.

“i know what it is. do you know that lubricating oil that women use?”

oh my lord in heaven. i am about to have a conversation with this little old lady about KY jelly.

“if you will rub that lubricating oil all over her hands and then let her play with a toy for a little bit, you can wipe that nail polish right off with a paper towel.”

i bet. ’cause i look like the type who’d be comfy rubbing KY jelly all over my 2 year old’s hands. apparently rat’s nest hair, no make up, and old maid’s clothes = classy life choices.

maybe she just thinks i’m backwoods and won’t know the difference.

and then it hits me. maybe she doesn’t know the difference? maybe she’s busted a grandchild with some KY and that’s what they told her it was for. sure, that’s gotta be it. how in the heck else would someone think to rub lubricating oil all over their hands for nail polish removal?

but what if she totally knows what it’s used for? what if she totally has bathroom cabinets containing multiple bottles of KY? what if grandma is getting it on?!

she leaves the bathroom. i fix my scary ponytail and head out.

“i was starting to wonder if y’all were ever going to come out,” says daddy.

i tell him about the old lady and the lubricating oil.

“nah ah.”

“yes, hah.”

it totally happened. and it totally happened to me.

so the moral(s) of the story is this:

#1. when you go out in public, look like you’re somebody. take a glance in a mirror before you exit the comfy seclusion of your own home.

#2. don’t even look up when you wash your hands in public. avoid awkward bathroom talk at all cost.

#3. don’t tell your grandma to rub her hands in lubricating oil to take her nail polish off if by some weird chance you own some and you’re caught with it. i don’t care if you’re a grown woman who thinks it will be funny. she will end up telling someone your little joke and will freak them out.

love forever,

mama

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2 thoughts on “the one about the little old lady and the lubricating oil

  1. Nice! These are the types of things that always happen to me! Before today though, I was beginning to think I could be making up stories..or exaggerating! You are proof that these things do happen to the right people…magnets for crazy!! :)… Love the post!

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