Mean Grannies

Do Mean Girls grown old and turn into Mean Grannies? If they do, I met up with one of them yesterday. This shouldn’t still be bothering me, but it’s stuck in my craw. (Do I have a craw? What’s a craw?)

Jeffrey is growing like a weed, and starting Kindergarten in a few weeks, so he desperately needs new clothes, particularly pants. I refuse to pay full-price for any kids clothes (or mine either, most of the time) so off we went to Ross.

Let’s just skip the joys of making a boy try on clothes; turns out my 4-almost-5 year old is wearing a size 8 jeans (egad!), that will also require cutting and hemmage. He’s always been a big kid. So I have a disgruntled boy, and I stop to look at tops. He is playing in the racks, like any boy in Ross, and I nudge our cart along the clothes-crowded aisle, flipping through the shirts. La la la….

An older lady, soon to be Mean Granny, turns onto my aisle, facing me with her cart. No biggie, polite convention would usually allow us to scootch by each other with a few pleasantries. But not Mean Granny. She is giving Jeffrey dirty looks, which I am not imagining, and not making any effort to move her cart to one side or the other. I cannot budge, and she is, litterally, at the end of the aisle. If she scooted back a foot, I could get by. But no, she’s Mean Granny.

I said “Excuse me, please” and got a sideways looks, but no other response. I stood there, uncomfotable, and wanting to ram her cart with mine, but ramming cotton-headed old ladies is not something I often do. (And she could hear me, so don’t be feelin’ sorry for her) So, louder, I say “Ma’am, could you please move your cart so I can squeeze by?”

She rolls her eyes at me and scootches her cart over just enough that I can get by if I lean over and walk partly in the racks of clothes. Incredulously, I move forward with my cart, and just as I am even with her, my foot catches on a piece of clothing under the rack (because that’s where I’m walking) and I trip. Trip like a big way, where you can’t play it of and blame the floor or something. My cart jacks up, and my foot catches Jeff in the noggin, making him burst into tears, and making me feel like a buffoon. My cart is jacked, my kid is crying, I am literally under the rack of clothes, and Mean Granny continues to just stand there, staring straight ahead with a disgusted scowl on her face. She never moved her cart!

Gathering the shreds of my pride and my poor kicked child, I kiss him, rub his noodle, and leave the store. She never moved.

In polite society, people function under certain social niceties- we smile at each other when we pass, we nod or give a small greeting- we somehow acknowledge the humanity of the stranger with whom we are sharing time and/or space. This Mean Old Lady did none of these things, and I think that is why it’s still bugging me. My basic humanity, and that of my son, was ignored.

So that’s my bugged rant for the day. Maybe now I can forget about her. I did always wonder what happened to the Mean Girls from school Guess I know now.

10 thoughts on “Mean Grannies

  1. I once had a granny yell at me when my cart accidentally touched her ankle. (It was one of those big car carts, which, while great for 3 kids, are not the most maneuverable in the world.) I got a whole medical history on how she doesn’t heal quickly, and now her ankle would hurt for weeks, and I tell you, I actually felt guilty by the end of it, thinking about how I caused Limping Granny by my carelessness.

    But she wasn’t exactly polite, either.

    And I can’t get over your son being a size 8! That’s amazing – does he take after your DH?

  2. You know, I never really wanted to know that much about your craw, but it sounds like Grannie had something shoved up hers good and hard.

    I don’t get people like this. Is it that hard to actually move one’s cart one foot backward? Is it that much of a matter of pride? Is it a black mark on your otherwise perfect cart record if you let someone go past you?

    Just tell yourself she has so little control over the rest of her rotten, meaningless, tiny life that this is the only satisfaction she gets: making young moms suffer in stores.

  3. I’m so sorry that you had to run into such a rude person while shopping with your kids. I hate when people are rude like that. I always want to say something to them but never know what to say until after the moment is over.

  4. Maybe she’s a bitter Granny. Or maybe she was one of those people who choose to never have kids and is now rude to everyone because she never experience the joy, pain, and humility that it takes to try to control someone who has a personality much bigger than your own.

  5. Mean Grannies come in all different ages and sizes. I have definitely experienced my share. My favorite thing to do to these “people” is to be the most passive-agressive person I can and say things like “Oh, Jeff, I am so sorry that I hurt you. I really didn’t mean to. It is just that this angry woman here didn’t want mommy to pass by her properly for fear of losing some sort of cart-war that is very important to her to win. I am sure she would apologize for her behavior if she had one shred of decency, but that obviously left her years ago when she was your age. I am sure she can remember that day since she is still acting like she is five. Please forgive Mommy honey, I am so sorry.” This type of reaction can go either way, but in my normal cases, they run off embarrassed and aware for even a small bit of time that they are acting ridiculous. May seem a bit odd to most people, but Tracy, you know I have done this :) As for kids getting big, we gave our almost THIRTEEN year old son his own cell phone today. I can’t believe it.

  6. You know, I’ve ran into a lot of “Blue hairs” like that! It’s like they think that because they are so old and have lived life longer than we have that the world owes them so much! They can do whatever they want, say whatever they want, act whatever way they want and everyone else just has to deal with it! I sure hope I don’t end up being a mean old lady like that one day! But you never know what’s going on in a persons life at that moment! Maybe she just lost a dear loved one! Anyways, we can hope that that maybe the case! I’d hate to think that she’s that rude all the time! It would really suck to be her if that were the case!

  7. That mean old granny!! But I must say this post had me laughing. Not at you, but at the way you kept talking about the mean old granny!

    Once this guy said to my son (who was waiting outside of the bathroom for ma and my daughter)…move out of the way, kid! When I came out, he was crying. Standing right there crying his eyes out. I asked him to show me who the guy was but he didn’t see him. (Probably a good thing.)

    Hey, maybe he had a run in with mean granny’s hubby…mean grampy. But really, I hate when grownups are mean. There is no excuse.

  8. You know me….”comin’ through!!” even though it’s
    hard to keep my mouth shut; I would want to say,”hey, move your $#!t!!” I don’t play well with others. Even then, I would feel like I didn’t handle it right. I would like to be more like Sister Toth, being able to handle someone’s rude behavior with dignity, and at the same time not letting them get away with it.

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