Mr. V.I.P.

Dear Stranger at the post office,
I know we just met. We saw one another as we pulled into the parking lot. It was a brief moment – but our meet cute was memorable. You saw me pull into the parking lot, probably saw the stroller in the bed of my truck and I’m almost sure you heard my sweet girl crying at the top of her lungs. I’m pretty sure you saw me try to get the closest parking spot so I wouldn’t have to lug my person and my little person in the building – all 11 lbs of her sweet wailing-ness. But, yet – you pulled pulled your sporty, made for a family of 1 or 2, personalized license plate car into the parking spot that I was praying for.

No biggie – as we say in the Te-jas…a few more feet of walking never hurt nobody 🙂

I’m assuming you’re important. You’re talking on your blue tooth very animatedly – although it looks like you’re a crazy person talking to yourself- but I see that you’re V.I.P. – the flashing light next to your ear and your cell phone attached to your pants. You sit in your car and although you’re on the phone – I can feel your eyes on me as I climb out of my truck, snap open the stroller, take the car seat with the screaming baby (while singing a “The Ants go Marching One by One” – to get her to quiet down), snap in the car seat, juggle my letters, my purse – all with the pacifier in my mouth ready to pop it into the screaming baby’s face.

I guess you’re phone call is done because you get out of the car at the same time as I’m walking up to the post office door. I flash you my pearly whites as the universal sign of “hello.” Hmm…you must not be from this universe because you choose to ignore me.

We’re approaching the door at the same time. Now, Mr. V.I.P, I want you to know that I’m a modern woman. Heck – some may even call me a renaissance woman. I can do lots of things at once – including opening a door, pushing in my stroller, shhhing my baby, and juggling all the things I have in my hand. I don’t expect any help – especially from someone as important as you! So, when you walked ahead of me (don’t think I didn’t see you quicken your pace), opened the door just wide enough so only you and a breath of air could get in – I wasn’t offended. Nope – not me . And – just because I hold the door open for random strangers because my parents raised me right – I wasn’t offended when the door hit the stroller, startled the already screaming baby, and nearly amputated my right arm (hey – that’s why God gave us two arms right!).

Mr. V.I.P. – I guess you had some paper work to fill out because I got in line ahead of you. I know, I know – how come they don’t have a First Class Line at post office for you. You have to wait along with lowly peeps like me and the elderly man in front of me. I hate that as you reached for the last form to fill out – the sweet older lady reached for it at the same time – whew – thank God you took it and didn’t let her have it! I know – I’m sorry to have broken the sweet silence of the post office – my little girl was just having an off day. I got understanding glances from other strangers, a pat on the back from a nice older lady (I bet she was a mom – she had the “Iknowwhatyou’regoingthroughanditwillgetbetter” look), and even a kind gesture of the person in front of me letting me go ahead of them.

Oh, Mr. V.I.P. – I heard you sigh. I’m sorry that I’m ruining your post office experience.

But I want to thank you. You get called up a few minutes later, walk by me and my little one, and spoke a revelation.

“Maybe you should feed her to keep her quiet.”

Oh wow – I didn’t realize it. I carried her for 9 months, was in labor for over 15 hours, have spent almost every waking minute with this sweet angel for over 3 months…and never mind that she JUST ate…

I love unsolicited advice from people like you. I heart running into strangers like you that are so self-important. I love it because it makes me realize that I am going to do WHATEVER it takes to make sure my sweet girl doesn’t resemble one iota of your being.




  1. Oh Czarina, I LOVE IT!!! I laughed so hard reading this. I hope Izzy is doing better now.

  2. did you kick him?
    i'm wanting to track him down myself and kick him for you.
    not a day to mess with me. or any mom. i'll send bad ju-ju thoughts his V.I.P. way. Grrrr!

  3. A-MEN HONEY! I love your take on it! Just remind yourself that you will do a better job raising your daughter than his parents oviously did raising him. I absolutely L-O-V-E your blog!

  4. Wow! I'm sure everyone else would have been understanding if you just started beating him with the diaper bag, lol.