Did you know that an Eskimo punches a baby seal in the flipper every time a person purchases a pair of Uggs?
I hate those boots.
Quite frankly, I think that these where made to jazz up jogging pants.
You know, glorifying lazy.
“Look at me! I haven’t washed my hair in 3 days and I have a hole in the crotch of my sweats but I’m so cool because I am wearing Uggs!”
And I’d whisper, “You still look stupid.”
My sister bought a pair and claimed that they were like a cozy blanket for your feet, are easy to slip on and off in the winter, and that they are “good weather transitioning” boots.
I slid her’s on to try and it was like I was missing out on an epic life experience like chasing someone with poop on a stick.
Kids are such assholes.
I ended up buying a pair for 5 bucks (the knock offs).
I wore them when I went to pick up Chunky from school the other day.
It was raining.
Nobody warned me about Uggs and their inability to repel water.
It was sideways raining into the boots.
Into the boots.
So there I was trying to shield my
fucking ugly boots Fuggs with my umbrella as the teachers began to let one child out of the school at a time.
I was getting impatient and probably developing pneumonia and in my head I was all, “Fuck this. My feet are wet. I’m going to break the rules and walk around to the other side of the fence and which ever kid comes out of the door next is coming home with me because I’m cold and angry.”
I ran to the entrance avoiding the puddles, even though it didn’t matter at that point, and took shelter under the roof’s overhang. Other parents followed suit and created a giant bottle neck at the doors. Mrs. K waved at me and pulled Chunky through the crowd. I reached for his hand when she grabbed my arm.
“Mrs. M, Chunky told us something special today.”
“That you’re having a baby girl,” she said excitedly.
“Oh no. No I’m not,” I replied.
The entrance became silent. So silent that you could hear an ant fart and a child’s heart breaking. I could feel everyone’s eyes staring at me. Staff. Parents.
I was mortified.
Mrs. K’s face reddened. She had the look that was like “Your Grandma just came out of her coma and then she got up and walked!”
“But then she died.”
“He told everyone,” she whispered.
I looked down and saw his lip curl and the impending tears clinging to his long lashes.
“I’m not. No. No. I’m not. Have a good evening,” I politely said as I pulled on Chunky’s hood and walked as fast as we could to the car.
We sat in the parking lot for a minute, waiting for the car to warm up. I could see Chunky in the rear view mirror. His neck was tucked into his chest.
“What’s wrong babe?”
He looked up, “Why are your eyes all red?”
“Because the rain splashed in them. What’s up with yours?” I asked.
“Because the rain splashed in them.”
We both sighed.
“I’d make a good big brother. I want a baby sister just like Robert and Joseph. Can I have one? I’ll help you and Dad. Please?” he begged.
“I have some gum in my pocket. You want a piece?”
Immediately his hand thrust forward and I handed him the gum.
I turned back around and put my foot on the pedal. I could feel my toes drowning in rain water and my heart in pain.
Then I thought of an Eskimo punching a baby seal in the flipper. Not once, but twice.
One for every woman who thought that these boots were cool and one for every woman who has bipolar disorder and has to make the tough decision about procreating gorgeous children like this one.
Then I’d whisper to the seal, “Life is a bitch.”
“Welcome to the party.”