University of Walgreens

I’m trying to teach my daughter to be lazy and impatient.

These skills may seem difficult to teach together, but I’ve devised a way to neatly combine them into one easy lesson, in the drive-thru pharmacy at Walgreens. That’s the ideal place to be shamefully impatient without ever having to get off your ass, or out of your car.

The drive-thru is superior to a classroom experience for two reasons. One is the unbeatable teacher to student ratio of 1:1. The second is the outstanding acoustics produced by the confined space of most vehicles. These noteworthy benefits allow the child to very clearly hear the pharmacist tell you through her Fisher-Price microphone that your prescription is still not ready. Equally important is the child’s ability to hear your irritated reply that you have already given them an additional 33 minutes to work it out, and this is completely unacceptable.

Not that I need a defense, but if I did, it would be as follows: I was sick.  I felt like warm dookie, and I looked even worse. I didn’t want to come back later. I just wanted to get my antibiotics so they could hurry up and f*ck up my pH balance and give me a yeast infection.

I pulled away from the drive-thru window without a proper good-bye. This proves I got in the last word.  The perception of power is important in any lesson. Then we parked and went inside to buy silly string.

There was one person in front of us when we got in line at the pharmacy to pay. I strategically chose that register instead of the one at the entrance because I wanted to discreetly snatch a pharmacy business card without the child noticing me behaving like a loser grown-up.  I already had my hiding place planned for the call I would later make to inquire about the readiness of my order.

I was standing there (im)patiently when Anna asked, “are you about to handle this Mommy-style?”

“Huh?”

Then she did a giggly would-be-gangster dance and said, “you know…Is Mama bear about to come out of her cave?”

I can explain. But not right now.

Before I could answer, the pharmacist leaned around the person in line and said, “Ms. Fakelastname, your order is ready. Our sincere apologies for the delay.”

Apparently she was concerned about the same mama-bear-charging-out-of-her-cave scenario.

Maybe something like this.

I thanked her and smiled brightly because I won.

This is irrefutable evidence that I’m on the right track.  Being impatient and lazy is the key to getting what you really want out of life.

Tiger moms can suck it.

I’m a bear mom.  Wussup.

Comments

  1. Oh, I have gotten super stabby at the Walgreen’s drive thru. It steals my very soul.

  2. I am more of a turtle mom. I tuck my head down in my shell and cures the crap out of people, then poke my head back out and smile. I like to think that’s why turtles do that. They are internal badasses, just like me.

  3. *curse, not cures. Did I really just post a typo? I swear I proofread. Granted, it was with a 2 year old on my lap, but that’s no excuse (even though it is one).

  4. nurseshauna says:

    HA! I am looking for another ‘Pharmacy story’ to add at the end of my own post about a really negative experience-same pharm too. I am happily putting your charming take on how we all feel when our meds are ‘waiting’. It’s what we choose to do with all it, that separates us from the bears. 😉 Thanks for adding some levity to what can be a serious issue for some.
    Nice writing!

  5. Hey that’s a great post (penguin moms are genius!), and thanks so much for pinging my post!
    Cheers!

Trackbacks

  1. […] was checking out Mollytopia’s post, University of Walgreens, in which her daughter refers to her as ‘Mama Bear’. That got me wondering about what type of […]

Talk to me

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: