J is the sweetest, kindest person you've ever met in your whole life. Considerate, polite, well-mannered. A true Southern lady.
Unless you tick her off. Then, you best back it up, 'cause Scrappy Doo is coming to town. You might even get a fry thrown at you. Or some ice. Just depends on the mood.
You guys remember Scrappy Doo, right? Scrappy Doo is Scooby Doo's nephew and he's always ready to fight. He's small, but mighty. Just like our J.
Well, I pulled a total Scrappy Doo the other day.
C has been on the waiting list for her daycare since April of last year. I go back to work in a week and a half and the daycare (which is at my church, I might add), was still giving me the run-around. Because of this, I put her on the list at another daycare. I visited that daycare on Tuesday and it was a nightmare come to life. Screaming, snot-covered children. Dirty. Loud. I burst into tears right on the scene at the mere thought of putting C in that daycare.
So, what did I do?
I drove straight to our church daycare and plopped myself in the director's office, demanding to know the status of C's daycare application. She told me that although I was correct that C was first on the waiting list, her spot had just been jumped by two other church members - one because they had children at the daycare and the other because she worked there. Those two kids were in: mine was not.
Hearing that, I pulled a total Scrappy Doo.
First, I got the angry cries going. That's right: I was so ticked I started crying. I quickly pulled myself together and told her that I wasn't leaving her office until I got a start date for C. The following things may have come out of my mouth:
"I will drive my child to The Villages every day to have her Grandma keep her until she has a spot in this daycare." (The Villages are an hour away)
"She's been on your waiting list since she was the size of a grape."
"What do I need to do to make sure she's here in a couple of weeks?" (Picture a greasy used car dealer here, because that's what I felt like).
"So-and-so's kid is in? He's younger than my daughter!"
What else did I do?
- Put C on my lap to stare at the director
- Tell the director, when she told me, "it's just God's timing," that I knew all about God's timing. I waited three years for my daughter. Yes, I threw in infertility for good measure.
The director was actually very apologetic and kind and in the end, she made a spot for C. She was accommodating; I was crazy - or, as my Alabama friend would call it, total Scrappy Doo.