Granola Girls

You’d think as a Mom to two of my own fairly nasty little urchins I could claim to have seen it all. After what I recently witnessed I can now proclaim “NOT!”

One evening I found myself (alone) at the local Barnes and Noble cafe sipping something warm, caffeinated and high in calories while perusing my newest purchase when in walked a gaggle of what I can only describe as “Earth Mothers”. Surely you’ve seen at least one as they aren’t an endangered species….long flowy skirts, Birkenstocks, organic cotton wafting in the breeze…you get the idea. A group of five, they plopped down two tables over and proceeded to wax rhapsodic about everything “kid” from pesticide-free veggies to vaccinations. One of these fine ladies was toting a tot in one of those slings that reminds me of a marsupial (I always wondered how the kid never fell out, but I’m too shallow to ask). After a bit, she retrieves said child, flops him onto her lap and proceeds to……..CHANGE HIS DIAPER!!

AT THE TABLE!

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CAFE!!

NO, I’M NOT KIDDING!!!

There was nary a pause in the conversation, no sign that any of these women thought this was absolutely disgusting, not a single “OMG, are you serious?” By now, my solo evening is beginning to lose it’s luster and I’m thinking surely one of these chicks is going to say something.

Thank goodness I didn’t hold my breath. Earth Mom proceeded to finish diapering her boy (yep, full frontal shot thanks very much) which seemed to take forever as she wiped and wiped and wiped….why yes, a fully-loaded diaper….WHOHOO! She finally rolled the whole thing into a tidy little bundle and…wait for it, wait for it…plopped it on top of the table! Table conversation never faltered.

I was utterly aghast! Granted, everyone poops and babies certainly don’t have a care as to when or where, however I don’t need to be privy to anyone’s (ahem) excretory adventures. I’d like to think I’m reasonably progressive, but next time take your kid to the can!

And make damn sure you wipe down your own table before you snack because one man’s table is another’s changing station!

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