Oversharing

Episode #1:

Yesterday after church, a couple that was sitting a few rows in front of us stopped to chat and coo over Baby Girl, along with their two adorable, red-headed children.

At one point, the wife commented on Baby Girl's beautiful, very dark brown eyes that just so happen to be the identical shade of their daughter's eyes.

In keeping up the polite, small talk, my hubby then said:

"You know what we say about kids who have dark brown eyes?"

I immediately knew where he was going with this, and started to cringe.

The couple looked at him expectantly as he laughed at the inside joke he hadn't yet revealed, and then said:

"That they're full of crap."

Polite awkwardness ensued, but it could have been worse.

He could have said to these relative strangers was we usually say:

"That they're full of s***."


Episode #2

I continue to struggle with my Starbucks withdrawal (still dealing with Baby Girl's milk protein allergy), so every now and then, I try to push the envelope and figure out some way--any possible way--to drive through and order something resembling a frothy, overpriced, slightly burnt-tasting beverage.

Yesterday afternoon, the hubby suggested I order a White Chocolate Peppermint Mocha, minus the milk. Sounds insane, I know, but with the coffee and syrup flavoring in tact, the plan was to go home and heat up rice milk to finish the drink off (sounds disgusting, I know, but it could be worse).

Bottom line: I think we finally figured out a way to stump the Starbucks barista--even though they claim to have like a thousand and twenty ways you can order their drinks.

After we requested what we did, and had a very hilarious conversation about no-whip, half-caf, NO milk (not even soy)--just coffee and some pumps of flavoring, the dude was totally baffled. He wasn't even able to write anything on the cup like they usually do, he just had to put, "ask me," and hand it off to the dude who was going to be making it.

When we went to pay, and he--yet again--confirmed our uber-strange order, my hubby finally said, "my wife's allergic to milk," which of course isn't true, but it was the easiest thing to say at the time. Until the guy started rambling about his niece who actually was allergic to milk, and then we started to get into awkward territory because we couldn't really keep up the inaccurate jabber.

That's when I said:

"It's actually my daughter. She can't have milk, and I'm breastfeeding."

Awkward moment.

Can you say "breastfeeding" to strangers? Male strangers?? Without them looking at your breastesses???

Apparently not.

But at least I have a super-cute kid that helps to take the edge off the awkwardness that comes from slightly damaged verbal filters.

Happy Monday, peeps.