If I could have had a fake baby in high school, maybe I'd be writing a different blog.

So, in case you missed it, Girl 3 has been a bit of a mobster lately.  Like always happens in my life (call it caramel - what my kids constantly confuse for KARMA), I was getting a little too smug and self-righteous and BAM my kid started acting like the devil on speed.  I would normally (and I use that term relatively - mainly because my relatives are not normal) be able to handle it, but in case you don't have a CALENDAR there are nine more days of school left.  When there are less than 30 days of school left, kids go completely bat$hit crazy, apparently.  I don't really know how to explain what happens in the ten, nine, and seven year old brains of kids who have less than 30 days of school left in the school year.  I think scientifically speaking some of the brain matter actually transforms into monkey brain matter and they go ape-nuts in terms of their movements and total lack of respect (And, come to think of it, their potty inappropriateness.  Potty inappropriateness is the main reason I don't like to see the monkeys at the zoo - and I think you know what I am talking about here.)  So, the fact that we are minutes away from the end of school and life as we know it will change drastically AND the fact that Girl 3 *might* really be from the streets of Sicily, momma (me) is going a little insane.  (I refer to myself in the third person a lot when I am stressed out.  Bring momma a drink STAT.  Momma is getting highly annoyed.  Momma is gonna pull off this highway soon if you guys don't zip it!  You get the point.)

Fast forward to yesterday when Girl 3 and I were purchasing blinds (the ones for the windows, not the people) at Lowe's.  Girl 3 had been exceptionally polite and patient while I made a blind purchase and we were checking out.  It was at this point that we both saw a young girl who looked to be breast feeding a small baby.  Here was why I thought that is what it was.  I saw a girl (who looked to be around 16) holding a smallish lump covered with a baby blanket (it was light pink) to her chest kind of sidewayish.  Then I saw a small baby foot on one end of the blanket and on the other end a bald headish type thing.  My brain said, "Teenage mom breast feeding her baby."  Then my brain said, "La Leche unite and be proud."  Then my brain said, "Sad for teenage pregnancy.  Happy for breast feeding mom?"  I put a question mark because sometimes I question my own brain which is why I probably need some sort of therapy.  But I can't afford it so I just have a free blog.

While I was busy trying to figure out my own brain, Girl 3 said, "Look momma.  A girl with a baby.  What's she doing?"

I mumbled, "Mm-hmm."  And tried to quickly figure out if I should say, "Breast feeding her baby."  Or, "I don't know."  Then the teenage girl gave us a really strange smile. 

Now, I can usually read people and their looks well.  For example I can tell when people (especially my own breed of people - moms) are saying:

• BACK the *&ck up because someone is gonna get hurt real bad.
• I need a drink.
• I just want to find the exit so I can get this kid to the car.
• What's wrong with your child?
• Don't you know how to stop that?

And I could go on and on, but those are just a sampling of the "looks" that I have gotten used to reading. 

But, this was a look I was totally unfamiliar with.  It seemed to be saying something like, "I'm not sure...what are you looking at?...I'm so embarrassed...this isn't what you think."

So, I said to baby, "I don't know."  And that's a good thing because right about then the girl's blanket fell a little to reveal A FAKE BABY. 

Now, you may be thinking, "How did you know it was a FAKE BABY and not a baby doll?"  (Because we all know they are easy to confuse.)  (???)

I knew it was a FAKE BABY because it was scarily real.  It looked like a Pampers commercial, not like Baby Alive (who, I think, looks kinda like Chucky's cousin).

Then Girl 3 said, "Why does that girl have a fake baby?"  (And, yes, I was amazed that she used the words fake baby.  Or, possibly she didn't use the words fake baby and simply said baby doll.  But, I would like to think my kid is a genius even though she's mean as hell.)

Without thinking I said, "Because that's what they do in high school.  They learn how to take care of fake babies."

Then a timer located somewhere inside the fake baby or somewhere near the baby (I am not sure which because I never had a fake baby in high school, which could explain a lot of things that have happened to me since high school.) started going off.  And then Girl 3 got a look on her face that I can only describe as, "WHAT THE WHAT???"

Seriously?  Is it any wonder Girl 3 is screwed up? 

Someone who looked to be the high school girls' mother (her real mother, presumably, not her fake mother) smiled knowingly over in our direction and said sugary sweetly, "Fake baby."  The exact same way someone might say "cancer," or "jealousy," or "sibling rivalry."

So, I did the only thing I could think to do.  I nodded in Girl 3's direction, forced a smile (I am sure my eyes had glazed over by this point) and said, "Real baby."  Then I winked for good measure.

You better believe I whisked Girl 3 out of Lowe's as fast as her little legs could carry her because I just plain did not have the energy to discuss high school, breast feeding, fake babies, real moms, and timers.

Unfortunately we were not fast enough because outside we encountered Teenage Mom and Fake Baby.  Teenage Mom was swinging Fake Baby in an infant carrier to soothe Fake Baby so that she would stop crying (or her timer would go off) (and the fact that I just typed that sentence is testament to my weakening brain matter).

Again, Girl 3 gave me the "What the what???"  Except this time she smiled crazily and looked a little defeated and said, "Look momma.  That girl is swinging her fake baby."

I nodded and kept quiet.

We got to the car and on the way home Girl 3 said, "Momma.  I don't wanna go to high school."

Clearly we have some explaining to do in the next 12 to 13 years.  Thank you, Teenage Moms and Fake Babies.