So, New Year's Day meant a haul up to Babies R Us in Danbury to look at all the crap I put on my registry online. Also, I had some venting to do as it seemed everything I put on said registry a month a go was low inventory. I was just looking for a good reason to vent since that is what I seem to be the best at these days. In fact, I think I have been what The Hubs calls a Rage-a-hol since Christmas Eve. But, my Christmas Eve would have made anyone rage because after sitting in a boring ass civil trial it then took me an hour to get home (I live less than 2 miles from my job) because there were way too many last minute assholes on the road). When I finally got home, the kid let me eat about a quarter of a salad before pressing herself into my freaking esophagus.
Then, we went to the bakery to get the cakes and pies and I saw the line out the door so I raged again. I told The Hubs if I started screaming that my water broke but I just HAVE to get this cake before I go to the hospital to shut up and play along. "I wouldn't put it past you" he said before I spotted the lone sample of an ENORMOUS piece of poundcake and when he turned to see why I suddenly quiet, he started laughing because I was trying to wedge the whole piece in my mouth. I was starving. It had been a whole hour since I ate 4 bites of salad. He said it was just nice to not hear me screaming. I told him the piece was left there just for me as my reward for a shitteous day. "No," he said, "the piece was left there because it was huge and anyone else would have been embarrassed to take it." Well, lucky for him, I'm not that type of gal!
So, cut to New Year's Day after filling up on breakfast, it was off to do the registry. Has anyone else noticed that when I make The Hubs do these daunting tasks like registries and getting up at the crack of dawn to get a fake tree, I use food to drug him into bliss? Of course, the store was short staffed on the count of this being a holiday and ALMOST everyone is out shopping. I nicely ask a sales associate to tell someone to get their ass over to the registry department ASAP. I meet Betti, with an I, and I don't know why that amused me so much but when I got a gander at her name tag, I commented (outside my head) "Betti, with an I." She printed out my registry and handed me a gun and off we went. But, not before I asked her about the low inventory which I already knew the answer to. Of course it is a new year which means new products but the complete line would not be up to date until the end of February, when I am due, so a helluva lotta good that does me.
Note to anyone who looks at my registry: Yes, there are two playpens and two strollers on there. I am not greedy. I just have a first choice and a second choice since my first choice barked "LOW INVENTORY" when I scanned it. Sometimes my second choice barked it too in which case I barked, "F U BABIES R US, F U AND YOUR LOW INVENTORY."
So, after going around and testing the weight of strollers (since I will be having the most interaction with it and my hands are shot from typing) and scanning a few things The Hubs throws a wrench into my pretty in pink plans telling me that I may want to register for more gender neutral stuff in the event we had another baby and it was a boy. Oh my god, the confusion. Deleting, rescanning, swearing. It was a mess. And people who see you registering have to give their two cents. "Get this, it's a lifesaver/I prefer these/oh, you will never use that." While I was thankful for these tips I was getting annoyed because the store is virtually IMPOSSIBLE to navigate. I was following around people trying to find stuff on registries and listening to them bitch just so I felt more in my element of crabbiness and impatience.
About 2 hours and 7 registry pages later I handed my gun to Betti, with an I, but not before I attempted to put it against my own skull and fire it. Then, I told The Hubs I was hungry and we were near a Crack Lobster which meant one thing, molten chocolate chip cookie with ice cream. Of course, because he had more than 4 bites of his lumberjack breakfast before finishing mine, he was NOT hungry. He was so not hungry that in attempt to buy his stomach some time he suggested we go to Destination Maternity. Still drugged from breakfast I see. I declined the offer because I am SO sick of maternity clothes and extremely looking forward to dumping this bland black and gray wardrobe. Hahaha, did I tell you that the waitress at Capital Grill thought it was so cute that my coat said Motherhood on the label when she brought it over for me. I explained because it was from Motherhood Maternity not that I was sewing Motherhood labels into my clothes to remember this period of my life.
A couple of days later we get a call from my in-laws who were in the Babies R Us in Milford looking for my stroller but they were mad because it was not there because it was low inventory and on clearance. Then, they went to get the infant car seat. Same problem. The Hubs told them to try the Danbury store and gave them the number. I'm not sure what happened when my MIL called but somehow they ended up giving her a number to get it online and that number was a phone sex line. Just to make sure she didn't misdial, she called twice. Now, she was pissed off at BRus because not only were they screwing with my registry but now they made her call a phone sex line and she was worried that her employer would see it on her phonebill and she would lose her job. The Hubs assured her that she was allowed to call a wrong number before she was deemed a pervert. But, that did not stop er from calling the police and reporting herself just in case.
When I called Betti, with an I, the next day to express some concern about this and to mark my carseat as purchased on my registry, my MIL must have already given Betti, with an I, an earful because she was quick to defend the fact her employees were not wrong and my MIL dialed 1-800 and not 1-888. "But seriously Betti, with an I, if your number is that close to a phone sex line, shouldn't you consider changing it?" She could have cared less much like any retail employee I run across lately, especially one that has to deal with hormonal pregnant ladies all day. The Hubs was ready to threaten to pull the registry (like they would care, has he seen how many pregnant people are out there right now? For every one that pulls the registry, 10 more come waddling through the door with their mobiles on their minds and their minds on the mobiles.