My first encounter with the crazy

I guess I should consider myself lucky in that in the just-over seven months of Henry's life, I've not really gotten unsolicited advice from well-meaning strangers.  I had some when I was pregnant but even then, not much.  Perhaps I put off a vibe.  This morning, I wish that vibe had been a little stronger because this morning, crazy lady in the grocery store decided she knew exactly how I needed to be raising my son. 

I knew this week's grocery trip was going to be a quick one so I took Henry with me when I went about 8:30.  If it's a going to be a more-involved trip, Henry stays home with his dad.  It was mostly empty in the store and we were able to complete our list quickly.  The checker was one whose line I'll frequently seek out--she's friendly but professional, just chatty enough, and she loves babies.  She and the bagger both gooed at Henry who obliged by smiling and gooing back at them.  As I was walking out, crazy lady came rushing over to tell me how cute Henry is and commented that he looks Irish.  I thanked her and said something about Irish being in there.  She then said something about how he looks like me and I look Irish.  I mumbled something again about there being Irish in there somewhere and Henry looking like his dad, thanked her for complementing Henry, smiled and tried to walk by her. 

Not happening.  She started in on how people have all kinds of crazy ideas about babies these days.  For some reason, and I'm still not sure how, the topic of feeding came up.  I laughed that we'd postponed solids mostly out of fear of the diapers and she apparently didn't get the joke just reiterated how people have crazy ideas about babies and she had food at 6 weeks and was fine.  Do we at least feed him cereal?  Does he like his cereal?  I answered yes, he loves oatmeal.  She said, "But what about cereal?"  Um, oatmeal *is* cereal.  I then had to hear how "they" would put it in bottles and cut off the nipple and give to children and I should try that.  Uh, he doesn't really do bottles.  Oh, you were able to breast feed (thank goodness that conversation ended there--would hated to have delved further into that topic with the crazy).  Does he eat?  Yes, he loves most whatever we shove at him.  What was his reaction to ice cream?  We've only been giving him food for a month; he's not had ice cream.  People and their crazy ideas about babies!  It's the doctors you know. They don't want to deal with sick babies. 

Mind you, this whole time, I'm trying to walk out the door.  Freedom was a mere 10 feet away and I couldn't make it.  OH!  And then she said, "No, no dear" and patted his hand as Henry was trying to eat the end of the strap on his little grocery cart seat cover.  I swatted at her hand and said to Henry it was OK.  Seriously.

By now, I'd at last made it to the door of the store and she's following me and prattling on about something while I'm mindlessly uh-huhing and grateful I chose a close parking spot.  She asked his name and responded that it was such a good American name!  And the rest of it?  Mac.  Didn't get any response to that because by now I was standing by my car (she was actually between me and the Subie).  She said something else but by now, my brain and all politeness had shut off.  She thankfully figured out that this was my car without me saying anything and wandered off into the parking lot.

I'm truly grateful Henry was in his usual cheerful mood.  I can only imagine what kind of advice I would have gotten had he been fussy.