Sometimes…

Sometimes this parenting gig really sucks. You see, it went down like this:

The boy’s work has a food item once a year in march, that’s full of minty green goodness. I prefer it mixed half and half with chocolate, because mmmmmmm chocolate mindy goodness! Every single year, since the store has opened in our area, I get this delicious mix of flavors without any problem. Until a couple days ago.

A couple days ago, my tastebuds were screaming for this once a year treat, and I hit up the drive thru for it. I was told that they couldn’t do that. I stammered “but… huh? since when?” and was told it wasn’t allowed. I said well, then pull TWO – one chocolate, one mintygreen, and pour half of each into a third cup and give it to me. They said no again. Color me disappointed. I had a large diet coke instead. Sigh.

That’s when I made the first mistake. I told my son. Who was all “aw HEYALL naw!” And, despite my protestations took me in, to ask what happened and again ask for the chocomint treat, before he decided to go behind the counter and make it himself. Someone narked – someone who has done her fair share of mistakes too.

Cue bedlam. Not right then, no, but when he went to check his schedule the next day. They suspended him for a day for “going behind the counter out of uniform and making a shake for his mommy, messing up the machine.” Yes, a professional write up included the word “mommy”. (cute rolling eyes HERE). And the machine was not messed up either.

Not only that, but now instead of 30 days to make crew trainer, they’re making him wait 6 months, and spent his entire shift yesterday berating him for this, and for half a dozen other things that were totally unrelated to him, while praising folks that have multiple write-ups for REAL reasons, etc. They even told him that we should have just asked them to pull two shakes and pour half of each into the third.

….uh. yeah. I did.

And yeah, cue mama feeling like shit for something that was thought by all involved to be all in fun – complain in fun, pick on the counter in fun, smiling managers having fun. Alas, something between the time we left, and the time he went back the next day to check his schedule made them decide it was ‘dump shit on The Boy day’. They made my kid feel like shit, they made my tough yet sensitive baby boy cry in frustration when he got home, and quite frankly, I’m mad as hell about it.

What really sucks, is that there’s nothing I can do about it, despite being the unwitting instigator of all of this. I have never been one to nark, but part of me wants to anonymously call and complain about the amount of messed up orders, the rude employees, the mishaps here and there that I know about. Part of me wants to rush in and demand they lay blame were it belongs – at the customer that complained and started all of this (which would be me) all for want of a chocomint treat.

All I can do, is hug him and talk to him and listen to him and try to give him ways to deal with this ball of shit thats rolling downhill. It’s clear that something’s going on higher up, and we all know that rolls downhill, especially in the fast food industry. He’s been told by the manager who is still on his side, to just put a happy face on it all for the next little while, and it’ll blow over. The boy doesn’t like putting on a happy face when he doesn’t feel it, but I all I can really do is encourage him to do the same.

It just plain sucks.

ETA: But I haven’t lost my touch to make him smile while facing a crap day. All it takes is rewriting Beyonce’s “Put a ring on it”. Observe:

Here’s my finger you can sit on it…
Here’s my finger you can sit on it…
Don’t be mad when i make you spin on it…
Here’s my finger you can sit on it…
Oh oh OH oh oh OH oh oh OH oh oh OH….

The boy: You really know how to make somone feel special, mom.”
With a smile, even.

I know. I’m not normal.
🙂