Rude Rude Rude

Today Christmas came early for Robby and his cousins. Robby has missed his Candy Papaw since he took a new job and moved. My Dad and his wife are visiting her family for the holidays, and they have decided to create a special visit for the grandchildren as they travel through the area.

Hotel rooms have been reserved for my family, my sister's family and my Dad and Phara, his wife. All of the kids are excited about swimming in an indoor pool and seeing their beloved Candy Papaw. My sister's children have never been to a hotel room which adds to the excitement for my niece and nephews!

Since the birth of his first grandchild, it has become a tradition that I do the toy shopping for my Dad. At first it started because he was busy with work and traveling between DC and Texas weekly. Not to brag, but I pick out excellent gifts on behalf of my Dad. I believe I am partly responsible for his "hero status" among the kids!

Armed with his credit card and my shopping list, I set out on my mission. I have spoken with Santa's main distribution officer to confirm what each child will be receiving on Christmas to avoid duplication. With my reindeer antlers proudly on top of my head and my jingle bell shirt singing with each step, I set out to conquer Target.

Because of my back injury I am forced to walk gingerly. My gait has been compromised and I have given up worrying about the aesthetics of my walk until I am healed. Right now I am more concerned with ambulating without pain versus looking graceful and natural. Apparently my walk was more awkward than I realized.

I wasn't in the store five minutes before I was approached by a middle aged woman with mismatched clothes and unruly hair. With a booming voice, she nudged me on the shoulder and said, "Well, don't you look like Tiny Tim!" I responded with an eloquent "Huh?"

She went on to repeat that I looked like Tiny Tim. In an attempt to prove her point she proceeded to mimicked my gait as she circled my cart. Only the facts that my back hurt and that I didn't want to be arrested for assault kept me from running this ignorant, bad breathed, bed-head haired woman down with my cart full of toys.

Imagine the headlines had I not demonstrated such Olympic restraint. "One-legged Reindeer Impersonator Goes Wild" or "Attacked by Rudolph, Shopper Visits Proctologist to Remove Jingle Bell." Once the facts were revealed, though, I am fairly confident that I would have been acquitted by a jury!

Instead of responding or starting a full blown throw down at the Target, I simply smiled. I curtly told her that I am an amputee and my back hurts. I wished her a Merry Christmas, put the Lego's in my cart and continued with my shopping. I briefly considered ramming into her with my cart as I walked away. Instead I held my head high and just hummed "Grandma got run over by a reindeer."