Hi. I'm Norman. Well, that's not my REAL name, but it's what my son calls me. He's 3. Still haven't quite figured out why I'm Norman. I generally respond better to "Mommy" but Norman he calls me, so Norman I'll be. It was pretty funny the first few times he called me Norman but then he started getting wise to all the attention he was generating by calling me Norman. So it stuck. Ha ha ha still funny. Then came the trip to WalMart.
General WalMart Rules for my kids:
1. You must stay in eyesight
2. Don't tell the woman that looks like a man that she looks like man
3. Cause she's really kinda scary looking and I want to get home in one piece
So anyway, I took my son to WalMart and he immediately broke rule number 1 while I was browsing around in the clothing section. Last time I saw the little booger he was hiding in a clothes rack. He likes to hide in the racks & pop out at the people. I looked in the rack & he's not there! Well - I'm starting to hyperventilate cause I get freaky about losing my kids and by now I'm crawling around on the floor peeking under racks. Hmph. No little feet featuring light up Thomas the Tank Engine. So after diving under my upteenth rack, I hear the following announcement: Attention WalMart Shoppers. Will customer in the store, Norman, please come to the front? Your son is waiting for you.
AAAAHHHH !!! He's up front!! Yay!! So I dash up to the customer service desk, and tell them that I am Norman, and could I please have my son. Blank stare. Hello? My son? Can I have him? "Can I see some ID please?" uh oh
heh heh heh. Well, you see, my ID doesn't say I am Norman, but my son calls me Norman.
Blank stare. HELLO?? Nothing. Can't have my son cause my ID doesn't match who he says I am. So now I am explaining to Blank Stare Lady the whole story of why I'm Norman. She nods understandingly. "Yes, but I just need to see some ID". OK! Here's my ID! "I'm sorry. I don't see anything that will tell me that you are indeed - Norman"
Deep Breaths. I lean over the counter. Grit my teeth. "Open. the. freaking. door. He will tell you who I am". So the door opens, my son comes flying out of the back room gleefully shouting "NOOOOORRRMAAAANN!!!"
They let me have him.
And that folks, in a nutshell, is why I am Norman.
Now. This is my first Blog, this is my first entry. Not very exciting, but just a little background of why I am Norman. Hopefully, I can make this blog as interesting as Christine's Legendary 100 Reasons Why I Hate My Husband, but that's a pretty tall order. In fact, I'm really upset that she had to shut down for a while. I mean, what will I do after my kids are in bed now? I used to read that blog and cackle and compare it to my own husband. So now I have to entertain myself in a different way, and maybe this will do it.
Here's hoping to some bizarre stuff that I can dig up, and post.